babies breath in the breeze

Motif all but disappeared amongst his fur, their similar pelts blending seamlessly. Those wide eyes gazed balefully up at him, and a plaintive inquiry rose from the small girl. “I don’t understand Taphy, why didn’t dad or mum stop them? Surely they weren’t ever afraid of your masters” she questioned, confusion plain as day upon her cherubic features. Poem, too, had all the more questions to ask. The ashen pup had cuddled in even tighter to his chest. ”Are there masters in Abaven?” she asked hesitantly, and though her eyes were sparkling with curiosity he couldn't miss the hint of fear that showed itself in a faint trembling of her body. ”I don’t want you to hurt again, ‘Taphy.”

He folded his forelimbs a little closer to Poem's form, cradling her against his chest. "Not to worry, there are no such monsters here in Abaven. Your parents have seen to that, quite well." he reassured the pair, rasping vocals soft and soothing. "To answer your question, Motif, your father had masters of his own, I recall. He could not fight my battles, and we were far away from here, and your mother didn't know. It isn't her fault, or his. Only the ones who hurt us are responsible for doing that." he murmured, verdant gaze sweeping over the cuddled up forms of the two youngsters. Perhaps he could salvage this morning, and coax them back to sleep with a different sort of tale.

"How about I tell you the story of the wolf who found great treasure at the bottom of a lake?" he questioned, hoping they might be torn away from this horrible train of thought and into the realm of fantasy. Miss Shaye would be less upset that way, hopefully.