Bearclaw Valley for every life,

for reference; rala's den looks like this !!

i will take you to mine, she invited, nudging into his shoulder before beginning in a trot, though his size, his longer legs would allow him to simply walk beside her and continue to match her pace. rala's den, a hollow that dipped beneath the earth, protected by a boulder at its' entrance, was close. she could smell her own scent within it.

there were other hollows, other dips in the ground that dolce could easily dig out with his firm, large paws, and nanuralaaq would be happy to help, too. her tail swayed as she went, occasionally drifting in front of the man before reminded herself to keep pace. gaze sporadically flicked over to dolce, her glances sidelong; interpreting his approval.

they eventually arrived to her place of rest. nanuralaaq shuffled, and said ; it is not much. materials are sparse in winter, but @Milan came by to lay a pelt for me to sleep on, a smile upon her face as she thought of they shy, yet incredibly helpful woman. if you ask her, she can sort one out for you, a lovely girl, she is.

then, as typical, she begun over-explaining, though there was nothing anxious about her words, she simply wanted to be known, to be seen, inside and out: and, come springtime, i hope to decorate it, a smile as she thought. flowers, grasses, pelts of my own making. little things to make it look nice. maybe some stones or gems if i can find any, a hum left her maw, a head tilted as she envisioned it ... thinking.

her gaze returned to the man. rala did not apologise for her abundance of words, as she knew that she did not have to when it came to dolce. taking comfort in such a thing, she said: where would you like to make your den, siqinniqtillugu? smiling.