The Angels Sang A Whiskey Lullaby

Gwynevere’s ears fell back as Aranea was gripped with pain again, worry in her mint and lavender gaze when Aranea refused the trillium she was offered. She hadn’t quite put two and two together yet that Aranea wouldn’t make it through this even though she knew how bad a condition Aranea had been in. A moment later she felt another ripple across the smaller woman’s muscles and soon after a pup appeared. Gwyn went to move the pup and her stomach churned uneasily at the sight of it. She almost couldn’t recognize it as a pup at all as it lay there still and mangled.

Her ear flicked back toward Aranea when she whined a single word question, causing her to finally lift her gaze up to the other woman’s face. “He’s sitting outside,” Gwyn assured her, though she wasn’t sure what he would do when she brought out this pup. “You should take the trillium,” she insisted again before turning back to what once was a pup and carefully picking it up as the odd, rotten smell filled her nose and made her stomach uneasy once more. She was careful to turn away from Aranea as she moved to shield the woman from the sight of it as she slipped out of the den to get it outside, but there was no way for her to warn or shield Ulric from it with him waiting just steps from the den.

She saw the sorrow and horror darken his face, but she didn’t have time to address him. She placed the first pup down in the grass before ducking back into the den to await the next pup and see if Aranea had followed her instructions about taking the trillium or not.

Gwynevere | Eilwen