Little Fiery One

Just before she was pulled entirely into sleep, she heard Alastor quietly mumble an apology and she blinked open her eyes just enough to see him with a heavy lidded gaze. She didn't feel like he had anything to apologize for despite how he had stormed out and only came back after a day of taking his grief out on the world around them. She knew his instability, she knew how deeply he felt about their children. She should have prepared him better, she should have done more to ease him into this world that is so drastically different from everyone else's. She felt like she was the one that deserved the guilt and the blame, but she wasn't going to argue it with him now.

Manea gently licked over the back of one of his ears, replying quietly, "I'm sorry too." There was more to say, more to discuss, but not right now. Right now they all needed rest and to recover. Manea blinked away a few more tears that collected in her eyes while she lovingly groomed her husband's ears and neck until she felt him fully relax into a deep, peaceful sleep against her. That was when she rested her head on him again, nestling into his long fur and quickly falling asleep as well. Her dreams were bitter sweet and haunting of a huge, inky black man and a small, ruby and amethyst woman together in serene fields of swaying grasses. She couldn't reach them, couldn't speak to them, but she could see them and it brought her joy as much as it brought her pain.

"Manea Mendacium"