Bearclaw Valley Most Girls

Pank-a-pank-a-pank-a-pank-a-PAAAAAAAAAAAnk---awinkle!
With each syllable of her name, she stomped her paw into a little divet she'd dug in the earth, and squished together an assortment of coltsfoot and dandelion heads she'd plucked from every plant she could find. She added some spit, to help the squished plants get a bit more paste-like, but found she didn't quite have enough spit in her mouth to really get the texture she desired. 

Not that it mattered- the process was hypnotic. 

Pank-a-pank-a-pank-a-pank-a-PAAAAAAANK---awinkle! 
She repeated over and over again as she beat the sad little flowers into a brownish pulp. When she paused in her process to examine the hue, she grimaced. Not yellow enough. 

She set off to find more.