Pray For The Wicked
02-24-2019, 09:18 PM
A gentle smirk graces the corner of Leera's maw; yes, it looks as though it will be true that Nephthys will have her paws full, but of course, she won't be alone in motherhood. Leera has already decided that she'll do anything that Nephthys needs her to do, whether it be going out to hunt to feed her family or simply watch over the pups when she just needs a break. She'll act as though the children had been conceived inside her own womb, sewn by her own blood. "You need not worry, flower. You'll have myself and Hannibal to see to your sanity," she purrs, nodding gently to the ornate wolfess.
The shimmering pieces of material do resemble slabs of dried mud, Leera notices. Teacup paws trod gingerly across the slick rocks and when she reaches the materials she pauses and leans in to sniff at them, curious of their existence. Only then, when she's close enough to make the connection, does a suppressed memory surface, a memory of a tradition that had been whispered to her many seasons ago. A tradition that had played a part in her own life. "These are birth plates, flower. Well... not yet they are, but when they are painted with images and presented to a mother on the day of her litter's birth, they are said to bring good tidings to the litter." Leera isn't one to believe in magic or superstition, but the coincidence that they have discovered the plates must mean something.
Gazing around, Leera quickly spots a patch of wildflowers sprinkled with hues ranging from bright yellow, fluorescent pink, and even deep blues. With these to use as dye, she could have a birth plate for Nephthys created in no time. "This means I must paint one for you, dear. For good luck over your first litter."
Leera speech
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!