sorry might never be enough

N/A · 03-18-2014, 08:49 PM

A slow, sheepish smile would creep onto the features of the pale furred lady as her friend responded without hesitation or hatred. The giantess would dip her tiara to step within the confines of the den, shrouded in shadow and quiet. The scent that had intrigued her was stronger, and the wiggling bundles attached to her pearl coated friend's belly explained it. The grin on the pale femme's sharp features would broaden as she took the little ones in, before looking to the features of her companion. "Congratulations! You have blessed the pack once more with fresh blood." Faint Russian lyrics would exclaim, the long plush banner of the dame giving a small wag against the tall heels of the ivory she wolf.

Haunches would slowly lower to the dusty floor of the den, the wolfess' tail wrapping about her powerful paws. Liquid mercury optics would fixate upon the creamy white features of her best friend, and her smile would falter. Iron gaze would fall to the ground, and wander to the sweet forms of the children. IT was not an occurrence in the mind of the woman that Song could have had a stillbirth, the Oracle was far too capable of being a mother, a good, proper mother. "I left, and I am deeply sorry. The stillborn, she looked just like my youngest sister... I couldn't take failing her again." Crumbling whisper soft tones would apologize, Russian accent quite thick as emotions clogged in the queen's throat. I could have saved Twilight, if I'd been faster. She mentally scolded herself, torturing her already traumatized mind further. With such a vast conscience, the lady was capable of beating herself over past faults for eternity and driving herself to places most would shirk from.

Slowly would the robotic gaze of the alabaster femme raise to the mismatched optics of her best friend, waiting for the axe that would soon be dropped upon her head. Song had a right to scold her, or demote her, or even exile her if she chose. Aurora had done the wrong thing, and she should pay the price for her actions, she would do so for any subjects she had. If the Oracle chose to yell, that would be okay with the willowy huntress, for she deserved and needed someone to be upset with her for abandoning her family and pack for nothing more than her own pitiful horrors, chased by ghosts from her past like a simpering child.

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