babies breath in the breeze

And there was Motif, waddling closer to join in on the story time. He lifted his head from where he was worrying at the back of her sister's neck, watching her move about. She leaned heavily against his back and side, but he hardly felt it. The juniper berries were finally beginning to work. He shifted his hindquarters, laying his legs out to the side and pulling his knees up so he could curl himself around her tiny form if she chose to stay where she was. That way she could feel safe and included. Something he had missed out on at that age. “But why would they do that?” Motif questioned softly, and he could see the sleepiness washed away by confusion and fear. “Whats a ‘master’”

Oh dear, he was most certainly opening these young minds to a world of hatred and fear. Miss Shaye was going to be so mad at him. Would she banish him from the den, where he could no longer taint their innocent minds? He sighed heavily, a frown pulling at his dark lips. His toxic gaze drifted down to little Poem, whose eyes were glassy with tears. "They did it so I would continue to work and do what I was told, and not argue or fight back." he murmured, tail seeking to curl up along the curved line of his hind limbs and brush against Motif's small body. "When I was little, I wasn't allowed to argue like you sometimes do with your mother. She might be upset with you when you do this, but she would never hurt you. It was not the same when I was your age." he explained softly, craning his neck so he could attempt to soothe the worried young girl with a few carefully placed swipes of his tongue along her shoulder.

"My masters were the bosses of me, they were usually bigger than me, and they were not nice. If they told me to fetch them food, I would. I had to, or they would hurt me." he continued, carefully choosing his words so that the children would not be so terrified that they couldn't go out anymore. Neither did he want to truly let on the horrors of his youth; of Grim's brutal rape during the night, or Hemlock's victims writhing at his paws. "But you don't have to worry, my loves." he softly nuzzled into Poem's flank, breathing in her milky puppy scent. There was the inexplicable sense of safety tied to that scent. "That will never happen here, your mother and Rhyme would never allow that." he assured them both as best he could, praying he hadn't ruined their impressions of the bright new world they were entering into.