Don't ask why

How could he explain that his paw was slick with his sister's lifeblood? That brief moment waiting for Rook to return with Ollie was worse than he would ever tell. He shook his head at the healer and stomped his paw to the earth as if to empathise it's wellness. He didn't feel much like talking, so he stood there in silence while they waited for Ollie's companion to return.


His eyes kept straying back to his sister, who lay still as the dead on the floor beneath the healer. Ollie wasn't particularly big, but the young wolf looked tiny beside him. “We argued… is she going to be okay?” He didn't look at Oleander, as if the words were a weakness exposed. He looked at his sister, he looked at the earth, he looked at his paws. Anywhere but the all too knowing eyes of their healer.