An old hag, cackling at the world

She hadnt been drunk since that night that had lead her and Rhyme into something they never would have done sober she didnt know what had lead her to it now, but she had found the fermented grapes well searching for herbs and she had taken a few to take the edge off her pains. They had been stronger then she had expected them to be, and she was lying now under the stars, the last of the day having slept her by without her realizing.

She looked up at the constellations, and she could see Motif, her old warrior mother, running across the blanket of night. She looked stern, as she so often had before her father had mellowed her out. She remembered the arguments she had had with her mother, most of which had centered around Rhythm. "Would you be proud of me, of what I've achieved here? Or would you just see the screw ups?" She asked the night air, "well screw you!"she yelled, throwing one of the old pieces of fruit into the distance, laughing as it squished into a tree, laughing to ignore the tears that streaked down her face, and dampened her muzzle.

She didnt want to feel like an old wolf, with pains and misery looking back at her past with regret. Missing all the opportunities she had let go, and wondering where her path had gone wrong.