misfit

Deathbelle padded softly up to the girl, she had felt like a mother doe the last few months. Leaving Banshee in indiscriminate places while she gathered herbs or looked for Hannibal. She was a mostly self sufficient creature, though needed fed and trained. It was little sacrifice for her brother’s child. If she could not have Hannibal she could have his daughter. The child sulked though, a problem the Klein woman had yet to resolve.

”Come along Ban,” She commanded softly with an affectionate nuzzle to the girl’s scruff. ”It’ll do you no good to lay around all day.” Belle stepped away from the girl, indicating that she should be followed. ”Keep your mind on your studies, it will dull the pain.” Belle gave her an understanding glance, but she wouldn’t coddle her niece. Deathbelle knew the pain of loss just as strongly as the child. Losing both parents and siblings. The pain was horrendous, but life went on. You got stronger or you perished as well. Belle didn’t want to lose Banshee too.