Bearclaw Valley But if you’re so smart

She glanced toward her mate, as his scent blended with hers. A memory was triggered, and her expression soured slightly as she continued along.

I ‘member Avicuth makin’ uth do the the thame with her, She commented as she pressed her muzzle against a tree. The rough bark combed through the thin fur of her cheek, leaving little pieces of lichen behind. Do you think she wath a bad mother? She asked then, suddenly keen to hear her mate’s opinion.