Bearclaw Valley our love, it's broken

astara stilled as she spotted avicus with her jaws wrapped around a bone. beneath her was a pool of slick liquid and bone shaving -- her daughter, hard at work against one of the last things a body gave before it was forgotten forever.

when she reached to astara's cheeks, astara was astounded by how much avicus had grown -- and in so little time. in truth, it had not been short at all -- puppies grew in spurts, and avicus was approaching one of the final sprints of her younghood. still the mother in her remembered cradling newborn avicus, no bigger than a doe's heart.

she transplanted an affectionate lick along the flame-orange bridge of her daughter's muzzle before she looked from bone to avicus. did she wish to wrestle or spar, or was something else on the agenda today?