Moonstone Quarry The bear that keeps to his own line

Was that a hint of a smile she saw or was it the thinner air depriving her of much needed oxygen? She shook her head. So he does have another side of him—one that isn’t entirely made of stone. The knowledge was pocketed away as she followed him.

He showed her the elk, its life taken by nature’s course. She listened carefully to instructions laid out for her and nodded, agreeing to the task silently. 

It was food, a way to sustain, a gift. 

Stopping at its side, her head lowered, eyes closed as she murmured a thankfulness that just felt…right. As if in answer, the winds ruffled her fur, a request to start what needed to be done. Teeth broke skin as she worked the elk’s belly, the edges wild and jagged; blood which had pooled in the carcass’s stillness broke freely from the cuts, slick on stone.

In her workings, she had not kept attention on her footing. One wrong step made and she slipped—face first into the carcass. It was not deep, she had not made much headway thankfully, but it was enough that blood stained her entire face as she came up sputtering.

And laughed. “Well, you can’t tell, but these cheeks? Red.” She paused, turning to face him, exposing herself fully. She attempted to lick what she could off her muzzle, but there was more she couldn’t reach. 

“Hm—does it bring out my eyes?” Her head tossed high as more laughter escaped her.

we love a clumsy girl