[BEAR.]

Note: This is a public thread, open to everyone who wishes to use it.

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What a strange place this is.

A large hilly field dotted with flat stones that reach toward the sky,
often visited by a pawful of Twolegs who come throughout the day.

They smell of grief, and they stand by the stones,
sometimes placing flowers or other objects beside them.

Even with their intrusion, it is quiet here, peaceful.

Birds and rodents are abundant in this valley,
though it provides minimal shelter from the elements.
Some of the reaching stones offer some protection from rain,
providing cats with crevices carved into the stone they can duck into,
but that does not prevent the cold breezes that drifts through the valley.

Very few of the reaching stones are like dens.
Enclosed in stone, cold to the touch, blocked off by weaved sticks
harder than any rock they know.
For the cats who can find a way into these, they have better protection
from the wind and rain.

For outsiders, this may not be the best place to make a home,
but it provides food and companionship if they seek other cats
or to comfort the Twolegs in mourning.