Sun Mote Copse rancho mirage

Okay, he replied to his grandma’s wise words.

It was all his, for now. What would he do with it? He withdrew even further into the hollow space and looked around with his ears and nose again. Towhee was right: there was enough space for Otter to sit in here with him. It would be cozy but not uncomfortable.

His paw touched something as he circled the tight space again. Skipjack stopped and lowered his head to nose at the object. The first thing that hit him was its dull fragrance. When he explored it with his muzzle, he found it rather perplexing. It seemed to have many edges, some of them sharp.

Hey, I foun’ somet’in’! he exclaimed, forgetting this his grandma couldn’t hear him.

He snatched up the broken pine cone and whirled, shoulder knocking into the doorway when he slightly miscalculated its location. Skip paid it no mind as he dropped the item at Towhee’s feet.

What’s it, gamma?