We can never leave her behind

The Warlord waited, and as he did so he attempted to smooth the distress in his face. Unusually, Bast stuck close by him. No longer stalking the hallways after puppies, she stuck close to the Warlord, tucked gently against his large side. Even Marshal, who hated the indoors, sat in the windowsill watching in. Bear, whose large cuddly presence was less unusual indoors, sat in a corner. Ready and waiting to watch the children and offer any comforts the Warlord might not manage.

The first to arrive was Vanta, and the creamed toned girl who kept her mothers colours, and her mothers strange mutation poked her head in with a chipperness that physically hurt. Her excitement shifted to confusion in a heartbeat, and then to excitement. Each word Vanta spoke caused the Warlord to twitch as if struck. He said nothing as she started to look around the room, and Bast silently patted his paw.

Next came Charlie, who immediately joined in the ‘game’ Vanta had started. “Don’t leave the room.” he warned Charlie, his voice sounding strange, strangled. “Stratum. He said, his voice a warning as the pup poked his head through the hallway, but the little zee-look alike returned a moment later, settling on the furs. Andy came next, and there was something in her gaze that mirrored the Warlord. They watched each other for a moment, neither speaking. Then came Dread, as subdued as his sister. Unlike Andy, Dread couldn’t meet his eyes. Last came Kite. the blind girl stumbled in, her blindfold in place, and a scowl on her face as she struggled to find the entrance. Using her nose to stumble her way to Andy and curl up at her sister's feet. Safe with a seeing wolf. They were all here. All of them waited, and at his word, none allowed to leave. He closed his eyes, bitterness on his tongue. She had left this hardest task for him, and he couldn’t fault her for the choice. But that didn’t make it any easier. “Vanta… Vanta, stop” he said, as the girl continued to poke about in search of their mother.

He could feel his heart slowing in his chest, an ache blooming from somewhere in that region. Panic tingled at the edges of his paws. He could still scent her blood on the tips of them. His nose flared at the horror of that thought. “Your mother… went on a journey this morning. Together, we went to visit one of the statues” he began. The urge to hit something had receded. All he could feel was the sadness, the horror. Rage was so much easier, and he wished he could touch even a taste of it. But he had sworn to her, and if he let go now, he did not know what damage he would bring to their children. It gave him nothing but hollow emptiness to cling to, and it left him feeling everything. “Because she believed in something. She believed in you, all of you, and our future. Your mother--” he choked on the words. He had to pause, concentrating on his breathing. What did you tell children? He didn’t want to share this pain with them, but he had no choice. “Was sick. Very, very sick. She wasn’t going to get better. So she chose to join the statue. The statue… the statue took her away.” too ambiguous for children. But he couldn’t stop himself. He danced around the words, struggling to say them.

"Speech"