Salvage efforts

Though she might be young, little Satira's drive to help her pack thrive and flourish knew no limit of age. Thankfully, their familial den sat fairly high in the territory and away from the beach, so the flooding hadn't affected them beyond some muddy entryways, but it was impossible to miss the chaos that had ensued following the storms. Grandpa Sirius had called all the wolves, though Asla had stayed behind with her and her brother in their den. She noted how her mother no longer attended any pack summons, no longer did any of her duties beyond patrols, and was leaving the territory more often to see her "friends" in the forest. She wasn't blind to the fragmenting of her family, but she was too young to truly grasp and understand any of it. Things were just happening, and as they happened, so they were.

This time, however, Tira heard her father's voice calling through the damp air. Her flopped ears perked and bounced on top of her head. He was calling for the pack's healers. Hey, I'm technically a healer too! she thought. That was all the justification she needed to get a chance to see her father. Running from the den, Tira's tiny legs carried her to where her father had assembled the small collective of healing proficient wolves within the pack, trotting up with a shocking amount of grace for a young pup. Satira slid her way past the other wolves and perched herself alongside her father's legs, beaming up at him with shimmering steel blue eyes and a sweet smile. "Hi Daddy! I'm here to help!" said Satira in the sweetest voice she could muster, batting those big blue eyes to try and melt his resolve to let her stay and help with the bigger wolves.

"Satira Fatalis"