Bearclaw Valley Lack of tipping is the leading cause of sinkholes in the US
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Ooc — Chelsie
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#3
That searchlight gaze ground to a halt when it found a wayward cloud adrift amidst the surrounding trees. Only this was no cloud; Ico was unmistakably a wolf, and Aventus' gaze clapped onto him warily. The boy's demeanour changed in an instant, shoulders climbing toward his ears at the same time his hindquarters began sinking toward the dirt.

Ico was impossibly slender, moreso than either mother or the one-eyed dragon. His gently tousled fur was a bright shade Aventus had yet to see on another wolf. His eyes flitted to the sky above as he quickly compared Ico to the passing clouds, and they were inscrutable when they returned to the visitor. How had he stolen their colour?

Awh... you're so cute! said Ico, spooking Aventus, who arched his back in a kittenish fright display, but slung his belly low toward the ground, submissive. He said nothing and made no sound. The Bearberry merely stared wide-eyed at Ico, waiting with bated breath for Something Bad to happen.