Bearclaw Valley lockbox

A smaller version of her mother, Athella shared her intensity. Sooty paws that she was growing into scraped heartily through the snow to spread her scent. Her loosely held tail at spine level showed her confidence. If Tvar had at all been concerned about spooking her in his approach, that notion would be quickly tossed out the window.

She hummed lowly in a pleasant little way. "Hey thanks. Someone has gotta keep up on it." A diligent worker already. All she needed now was to be refined from that raw iron into a sculpted precision tool. 

Despite the radiating intensity that rolled off her in literal waves, Athella was still a kid. She whirled to face him, dropping down into a loose play bow. Looking up into hazel eyes quizzically. Testing the waters in this first, true formal meeting.