Bearclaw Valley our love, it's broken

she lays absently picking at an old bone, taking out her uncertainty and frustrations out on the weathered ivory. gnawing releases her mind from worry; her slobber dribbles down the length of it, pooling around the base that's nestled between her forepaws. one crack and she'll get to the marrow—

a shadow, suddenly. mother. she stands quickly with a low whine, bone all but forgotten, and trots over to the woman. Avicus rears slightly, pressing her muzzle against the underside of Astara's cheek.

she's growing larger by the day, and thus the reach grows shorter. soon she will stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her murderous parents.