The sound of a heart shattering is the loudest thing you'll never hear

Grief is a strange creature. It chases you down, swallows you whole, strips you of everything you once held cdear, and leaves your bear soul for all the world to see. In her short existence on this plant, the young Haydée has never felt so completely and utterly, helpless. It wasn’t just the murder of her father that had shaken up her young life but the time that has followed his burial. Her dear mother has tried to hold herself together for the sake of the pack but, even as the girl felt like she was drowning in her deep well of sorrow, Hay could see the cracks beginning to form in her mother’s façade. Bellamy grew quieter, slept less, ate very little and even went so far as to banish Whiskers and Ears, her two companions, from her den.

Things needed to change within the pack if they all were going to start healing from the absence of her father and that healing needs to start with her mother. Paws carefully pull the girl along a well-worn path, her heart knowing exactly where her mother will be without any question. The day is overcast and rainy as the dark gray clouds above seem to reflect the mood within Ethne’s borders. As the gravesite of her father comes into view, along with the curled figure of her mother, Haydée cannot help put stop in her tracks and inhale sharply. It is a pitiful sight but one the girl understands all too well.

Because grief is a strange creature.

Haydée has been out to this site several times before to sob over the deceased, mutilated corpse that lays slowly decaying in the ground. But, when the moment came to give into her sorrow and let herself waste away or do what she knows her father would have wanted and live… well, the girl chose life. The ache of his absence is still in her heart but that raw wound will slowly scab over in time. It will never truly go away but the girl actually feels like she can function again; something that her mother seems unable to do right now.

Gavroache had held Bellamy together for all those years, patching her up with not only herbs but love. Hay knows nothing of the healing arts but she does have plenty of love to spare. A sad, understanding smile appears on her lips as soft paws finally pull her forward, the steady beat of the rain covering her pawfalls. Stopping outside of Bellamy’s striking distance, the girl hesitates a moment as she remembers the way the woman had torn the tiger to sherds. When pushed to extremes, Bellamy tended to act out with violence. Yet, as she looks at the curled shadow of the wolf she knows, that deep ache in her chest once more hits.

Without a sound, Hay glides up to her mother and carefully tucks herself into Bellamy’s chest. It requires her to unfold the woman a bit and lift her leg so that her shorter framer can slide underneath her arm. She also has to tilt Bellamy’s head back slightly so she can rest her own, smaller one, underneath. However, if the woman allows it, the girl will come to rest with her shorter legs gently encircling her mother’s neck with her head resting underneath her mother’s chin. For now, there are no words, just the gentle love and understanding of two wolves who have lost someone very important to them. Talk of what needs to happen can wait a little longer as Haydée simply holds onto her mother.


"Haydée Kedieo"