Stone Circle Folk Tales

Ah, auntie Tauris!
Astrid was confined to vague memories of her silhouette coming in and out of the den, the muddy sound of her voice before her senses truly came to her. She smelled her everywhere, but had never truly spoken to her much; even still, her beady little eyes looked up to her all the same. As a mentor, of sorts, or whatever concept of mentorship a little two month old puppy could have.
She shuffles proudly into the Nornir den, fat little paws flopping against the cool floor as she eases down into a sit. But wait. Tauris has two little lumps next to her. What were those?
She snuffles their amorphous figures, tongue tepidly poking out, before she decides to curl up right behind them with two big arms flopped on either side of their hinds. She wanted to hold them too!
Eagerly, she waits with pointed ears, a tiny wobbly smile given as if there were no boundaries potentially crossed at all.