Black Knives Matter!

Dark dainty paws picked their way through the stone outcropping. The Frenchwoman wondered how these black stones came about. Were they crystals? Lava rock? Some of them were shiny, others were dull and marked with holes, and still others were ashy white and immovable against the ground.

She wondered if there were any herbs in this area too, maybe the volcano had supplied rich soil for the herbs to grow... She lifted her dark nose to the air. She drew in several shallow breaths then one long one. Someone else was in the area. A female, good. She didn't want to run into any males all season if she could. Her insides were very unhappy with her surge or recent hormones.

She took another step and felt something nic her paw. Confused she looked down and saw a short and meager trail of her own blood following her. What?? She looked down at her paw and saw that it had a small slit, and the only way it had started to hurt was because a few grains of stones had worked their way into the sliced wound! If she looked back and saw the easy culprit. One of the shiny black stones had split open and one of the sides of it was razor sharp! Hmm... She wondered if she make something out of this stuff that could help her slice into the harder to pick herbs.