The hours of cold
05-21-2014, 08:13 AM
The pristine woman would find herself in the den, a light nap being taken with Descant. She would have no inkling to the sudden likeness that would overtake her daughter and her son. Ears would flick peacefully as she and the youngest of her children slept in the safety of her den. Cherokee was hopefully out patrolling the border while her healthier children would play out and about in the territory. It would not be the cry of anguish released from her son that would first awake her, instead it was the scent of his blood. Her features would rise nearly instantly as her name was called out. Before she saw him she knew something was very wrong. A whine would leave her throat at his words, and the porcelain she wolf would be outside. Bicolored gaze searching desperately for her song's form. When she found it she wanted to break down. Blood would pour from his eyes as his small form staggered to her. She did her best to keep her features calm as she rushed to his side. "Baby. Shh.. It's okay momma's gonna take care of you." she would hold him close, trying to lick away the stains on his pristine pelt. What was going on? What was this? "talking" |
Current time: 11-23-2024, 10:27 AM
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