Just as Isabella was admiring her makeshift toothpaste—her little pile of ground charcoal and mint leaves sitting proudly on the stone slab—Shelia came jogging back from the forest, holding some thin branches in her hand.
"I got them!" Shelia grinned, her usually mischievous face unusually proud. "Are these the right ones?"
Isabella took the branches from her and inspected them. The size was perfect, the bark was smooth, and it had just the right amount of flexibility. She had even broken it cleanly, avoiding splinters.
"Huh," Isabella nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
Shelia puffed up like a cat that had just been praised for a successful hunt. "See? I'm useful!"
Ophelia, ever the gentle soul, clapped her hands together. "Shelia, you're amazing!"
Shelia gave a smug smile, tilting her head dramatically. "I know."
Isabella rolled her eyes but smiled. "Alright, time to show you guys how to use this thing."
