he had settled into a room and was happy to be safe. he was warm, had food, and was watched out for. the cub loved it. he had never felt this safe growing up. so, now that he was safe, he had more time for toymaking. he had gotten some wood and begun slowly carving it with a calm claw. peeling the wood away.

it was sunset when he finished the work. a small wooden duck. he looked at it with pride. it wasn't smooth or colorful. it was his own work and for a start, it was lovely. he was gonna paint it. eventually one day.

speaking