Big. Damn. Hero's sir.

Exhausted and worn through, the tired Alpha made her way to her den in the late hours of the morning. She pulled herself onto the bed, closed her eyes for all of a second, and then opened them with a start. Motif she was suppose to be here. Poem was still out with Epitaph, but her youngest was supposed to be here.

She got quickly to her feet, and followed the scent trail of her child, it lead her to the makeshift infirmary, where she remembered shooing the girl to bed. It then moved onwards towards the thicket, and she would find her at the base of a tree between the thickets and the rapids.

She sighed when she saw the girl, curled up against the big cat, tiny against the larger form of the predator. She looked so tiny, and the frown lines she had worn the night before seemed to have soothed. Canni was good for her.

“Morning sleep heads” she said gently, knowing she needed to speak to Canni, she had heard of the wolves that had waylaid her when she had tried to get Motif to safety. She wasn’t going to forget that any time soon. Without Cannival… she didn’t want to think about it. If they had more time and resources, she would throw a celebration for the lion, but as it was everyone was worn, and prey was about to get scarce. The alpha had problems, every which way she looked.