a single strand on the tapestry

The Empress stood stoically at the edge of the forest that bordered the ravine, her magenta gaze far off as she looked out over the lake. The sun was very nearly free of the horizon and Belle was soon to find her way back to her den for a much needed rest. She was for the most part nocturnal. She preferred the night. Her rose crown rested heavily upon her brow, the generous gift from her brother a mark of her position as much as her regal pose.

She had eyes only for Hannibal. The meeting had gone better than expected, and Ashen’s numbers were beginning to swell. Just like her formerly thin sides. She was becoming a bit more obvious, but could still hide it in the moonlight or laugh it off as extra weight from living within a pack again. She would make an announcement soon, right after her most trusted members all knew for certain. Her brother also needed to know about the alliance associated with her young.

Certain that by now he had made himself fully at home she called out for him softly, seeking his presence in those early morning hours.