Bad Thoughts

Harmony perked at the sound of her niece's voice. She stirred in her small, makeshift den (oh how she missed the one she'd spent so much time enlarging the past summer) just as Sparrow unleashed a flood of Italian. Poking her head out, Harmony made a gentle 'slow down' motion with her paw. "I'm sorry, Sparrow, I don't speak Italian," she said with an apologetic smile. Things had been unsettled for everyone since Finch's return, but Harmony was experienced enough to catch sleep when she could despite the uneasy situation, knowing that she could very well be up through the night with a patient, so unlike many of the younger members of the pack she was comparatively well rested and neat in appearance. She moved from the den to seat herself beside the darker, smaller Destruction girl and sought to soothingly groom about the girl's ears. "Is something wrong, darling?" She hoped her nieces and nephews - well, all the youths in the pack, really - knew that they could come talk with her whenever they needed, but she knew it was unlikely. She hadn't been there for most of their childhoods, just the aunt that had appeared out of the wilderness when they were yearlings. She despaired sometimes of rekindling the relationships she'd once had, and it could be surprisingly lonely among all her kin after having missed so much. Perhaps it wasn't so hard to imagine how the pack's young wolves could feel the same, though she wished so much that they could understand how much they were cared for.