Recluse watched as the moon slowly rose into the sky, feeling the tiredness of the day pulling on her. She had been woken up by her siblings, they didn't seem to understand she couldn't really join them in their romps outside. When she and papa were sleeping they'd learned to leave her alone but they had been left without their parents for nearly the whole day. So Recluse had been up for a long time, well long for such a young pup and still, she couldn't find herself slipping into the peaceful rest of her siblings.

She'd given up on chewing on Eulogy's toes in boredom. In fact, she was bored because of Eulogy, the woman never tried to move away; just sat there whining occasionally as Recluse gnawed ever more vigorously. So she'd given up, what good was the woman if she didn't even play properly? She huffed, resting her head on her paws as she watched the sky through the grating Eulogy used to keep them in the den. Where had her parent's gone? She had no concept of abandonment and as such hadn't yet considered it a possibility... in fact even if she did understand it; the concept would have been impossible for her consider. Her parents were devoted to their hellspawn and Recluse had already learned that she was special because of who her parents were.



Speech

Art by Vethysnia

The light of the day had long since ebbed and dwindled to nothing, now as midnight marched steadily toward them the air was cooler and damper than it had been. In the sweet rain-washed darkness the sounds of the night became loud in the autumn babe ears, even the rustling of the leaves and the whisper of the wind was thunderous. She swore that in the absolute blackness of that midnight world she could have heard a beetle in the earth, so acute became her hearing. A clear night illuminated the forest, as she patroled their den site, by the glint of stars and the radiance of a bright moon. At midnight, yellow beams of starlight would illuminate the invading darkness, casting a myriad of shadows upon the ground and yet fiery orange orbs caught a movement that could not have belonged to a shadow. My sweet poisonour berry, she called with a purr, warm sonnates leaving full, ebon lips as she approached the albino cherryblossom. night is your home like it is for your Father. she mused, plush, coral tongue rolling from her maw in order to lean down and wipe a affectionate wet stripe across her daugheters right ear. Speech