Stories to Sleep to

The moon, high in the sky and scattering light in silver rivulets across Polar Sound, guided Aresenn's steps as he trudged through the valley. He lifted his nose, whiskers twitching at the scent of rain-soaked grass and the tang of seaweed carried on the brisk ocean breeze. As he approached the narrow canyon, he stopped to glance at the sheer rock faces that towered around him. His orange eyes gleamed eerily in the moonlight as they roamed over the slate surfaces, taking in the multitude of small waterfalls that trickled down from their heights. The sound of rushing water filled his ears.

It didn’t take long for him to make it back to the den. Muffled snuffles emanated faintly as he approached, the familiar scent of Absinth and their offspring wafting comfortingly to his nostrils. The cave was a haven, a bubble of warmth amidst the stark chill of the taiga that held them all close within its rocky embrace.

He moved with utmost caution, each footfall a ghostly whisper against the stone floor. Echoes of his family's slumbering breaths cushioned the silence, their rhythmic patterns a lullaby that tugged at his own drowsiness. Aresenn wanted nothing more than to collapse in the comfortable pile of furs that made up their sleeping area, but his ever-present drive pushed him toward his duty. His gaze fell upon the sleeping figures; Absinth, her sleek coat shimmering with an ethereal glow, and their sons and daughters, innocent and unaware of the world's harshness - a sight that softened the edges of his hardened heart. He could have stood there watching them sleep all night.

"Aresenn Praetor"