Their paws grew stronger, batting clumsily at each other, at the bottles, at the world itself. And always, Bella was there. She became their anchor, lying beside the warming bed as though the nursery was her rightful den. When a cub whimpered, she pressed her muzzle close, letting them nuzzle into her fur.
When Ethan carried one out for feeding, Bella followed, pacing every step until the cub was safely back again. The first time a cub tried to climb onto her, Bella froze, unsure. The tiny claws hooked into her coat, tugging. Then the cub sneezed and Bella’s ears flicked back. She lowered her body, letting all three scramble over her shoulders and flop against her side.