( buckle up buttercup )
Gathering the children had been the first order of business, as the storm clouds came rolling in. Samael had disappeared, seeking food for the ever growing bundles of energy they shared. The phantom was sure he would be safe until the storm passed. As she herded Divo into the cavernous den, she caught an unfamiliar aroma. Lingering, faint, in her nostrils, she knew she couldn't rest until she was sure the wolf wasn't in danger. "Посадите свои румы, где вы находитесь, и если вы переедете, я буду знать. Я вернусь." She commanded, serving each child a hard look in turn.
Leaving the den behind, she braved the blistering winds. Thickened hide and well worn pads carried her through the pass, towards the higher elevations. Violent upheavals of the snow all around were all that stood between herself and a grim fate. Her children would never know what happened, and would never be brought up right. She dared not consider that now. Pushing her muscles as hard as they would go, she climbed the boulders and cliffs until she was near the summit. A young wolf, frail looking and altogether unsuited to the north. Her pelt blended well with the stone all around her. Save for her ebony clad limbs, she was all but invisible in the weather. "It is not safe now, please come with me!" She requested, vocals straining to be heard over the power of the storm. A young wolf dying on her doorstep would not be something she could explain to her pups. "Do you have strength to continue?" It would only get worse, the longer they remained. There wasn't time for dilly dallying.
"speech" |
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