goodbye

I'm fine, the little voice says. The little voice that's on the verge of tears. Hazel knows the sound well. She knows that the child is trying to be brave. The pup is trying desperately, though the illusion doesn't hold. Hazel regards the child with gentleness, but not pity. Never pity. Kids like them... they're survivors. Stronger than anyone else would understand.

The child knows. The child figures it out quicker than Hazel did. They are awfully small, showing signs of being underweight. All sharp angles and bony elbows. Hazel, usually a bull in a china shop sort of girl, is unusually gentle. She sits down on her haunches at a distance, not wanting to scare the child off. "You can come sit with me, if you want." Offering the pup her side, Hazel waits. Trying to appear non-threatening. Trying to be the adult she needed, when things had gone the way they did.

"I'm Hazel. I ah, I know how you feel. They left me just on the other side of that treeline, when I was your age." Maybe that would break the ice. She could hope, right? She indicated the treeline just to the south with her muzzle, and a soft sigh. At the time, another pack had lived here. If they hadn't, maybe Hazel would have been dropped right here, too. Wait right here.

"Speech"