No rest for the Wicked

Soon enough Drachen popped into sight from the mouth of his den and her sky-colored eyes took a swift inspection of his frame, noting the stiffness she’d expected in the left forelimb. Though healed, scars like that could get achy and stiff after much use and travel, and the other forelimb would likely be sore from compensating, even when he was doing his best to mask the visual signs of lameness.

His rumbled response brought a light smile to her features. “Every little bit helps.”

Drachen was intelligent and needed no prompting to settle in for her inspection, so Eramaya stepped forward and sat at his side, letting her gentle forepaws brush over the thick scar from top to bottom, probing as her eyes watched him for reactions.

“I’ve been well. Ardyn finished my hut a while back and the garden’s growing in well. Legacy will be getting her Nomad’s Marks soon. We had three pups born to Kairi, but.. she didn’t make it. Their father is from another pack, so I assume once they’re old enough, they’ll make their choices as to whether they stay or go.”

A touch of wistfulness hid beneath the idle accent of her words, as her thoughts flicked briefly to her youngest children, wondering how they were faring, and if she’d see them sooner than the next time the Chapters ranged close to Valhalla.

She completed her examination of the scar itself and ranged outward, palpating and pressing to feel the muscles of shoulder and foreleg, lower neck and behind the jaw, along the back and ribs. Experience told her there was likely to be tightness in each of the muscle groups, and she added, “Have these been stiff as well?”, as her eyes flicked to his, brow points flicking up in query.

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