Loss

He was a spot of darkness that popped through the polar bear hide covering her alcove opening and her toes flexed in a surge of unease, hackles lifting where the hair wasn’t too long to fluff out.

It took a moment to wrestle her rationale into place. This was Fidelias, Justice’s son, the only one to have seemingly decided to stay. Gwen must be pleased with him… Gwen? Gwen was dead. Long dead.

His words sank in, and her eyes cleared, registering them with a dull, rapidly sharpening sting of shock. Dead. Was everyone dead? How could she have let this happen to her people?

A tremor vibrated from head to tail as her eyes clamped shut, briefly blocking the flow of glowing blue liquid before it fought free through a faint sob.

“I’m sorry… So sorry…” She couldn’t restrain the keening in the words, curling into a tight ball. Too sick to stand up and take charge, too bloody useless to keep her pack alive.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think