Bearclaw Valley not a bit crazy

ahniska wriggled against the warmth that surrounded her, tiny paws kneading blindly at her mother's side. the world was a hazy dream of scent and warmth, and she knew nothing beyond the rhythm of heartbeats and the steady rise and fall of breath.
but then—there. the touch of her mother's tongue, sweeping over her in slow, careful strokes. it sent a shiver through her tiny frame, a feeling both new and familiar all at once. instinctively, she pressed closer, a soft, breathy sound escaping her—something like a purr, a whimper of contentment.
her mouth opened, seeking, though she was not yet hungry. she only wished to be near, to feel that touch again, to bask in the comfort of it. her tiny tail twitched, a slow and sleepy motion, as she settled beneath her mother's care.