Porcupine Ridge stone plug

each day the darkness gathered muskrat and then spat her out again into patches of sunflower light. she melded with the black mist of the ridge and came out into its glow. each spiked place had its own name, and now she had begun to contemplate the underbelly of the shadowland and its hidden secrets.

today she crept around the mouth of the yawning cave with its maroon throat and chert teeth; her senses strained for what mortal or eldritch thing might be there, and her lip lifted to show a single white tooth.