Sawtooth Spire mascara for the lonely want

Her hard thinking warrants a break. As the adults went back and forth about things she couldn’t quite understand, Marble rolled one of the rocks beneath her paw. She loved the way it felt; all the curves and indent. Each rock was different from the other. That’s what was so fascinating about them.

Marble came back to reality when Mahler gestured to her collection. Her grip tightened, and she moved back slightly. She was hesitant to let her own mother touch her things, she wasn’t ready to let a stranger touch them.