growing pains
05-06-2019, 04:39 PM
Lament Pyre The young warrior dolled out his time between pack chores, in thanks for the hospitality of their host, running, for the freedom and peace of mind that gave him, and being with his sister. He always had time for her, and made certain to bring her hunting gifts as he did the gentle Grandmother of the pack. She had started to withdraw into herself, and Lament was uncertain how to help her. He could offer her friendly spars to get their bloody up, but she had turned him down these last few days. She wanted to remain in her den, to lament over what she had lost. Determined not to let her sink into depression, Lament began to find novelties for her in his run. A feather, who’s brilliant red markings struck him as familiar. A stone, which held a glossy blue sheen and reflected their faces back at them. A charred piece of earth that seemed like it had been in the heart of a great fire. He collected them all, and made his way into her den so they might share in their wonder, announcing himself with a soft scuff of a paw against the entryway before he slipped inside. He was assaulted by a strong scent, and found himself sneezing moments before he saw her. “Grief. What have you bathed in, sister mine?” he asked her as he settled his gifts down in front of her. Oblivious male that he was, his paw moved through teasing gestures. |
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