Death to Alacritis (Cairo/)
02-11-2013, 09:07 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-11-2013, 09:20 PM by Erani.)
She could feel the children's questions whirling around her as she sat. When Syrinx had voiced his own query, she had looked at the young male, growing so swiftly, and pondered her answer a moment, before giving a gentle reply, honest and clear. "I cannot say yes for sure. But I know your father, and Collision, and they would never let Valhalla fragment or die out." Her blue eyes had held those of the firstborn, calm and soft, before she had continued, searching for a place.
Now, she sat in the entrance of the hollow redwood, questions of her own whirling through her mind, flitting in and out like snow flakes passing through rays of moonlight. Her cerulean eyes searched through the black snow that fell, as she listened to the sleeping breathing of the pups. Nearly all of them. The breathing of Syrinx was that of a restless, waking mind, sleep not wanting to come. She rose, turned, and went to the firstborn son of Cairo, the future Alpha of Valhalla, should it survive the upheaval of home and comfort.
Settling beside him, she bent, and made to softly groom the ash from his brow, as best as she could, sending as much of a sense of calmness to him. She knew he wondered where his father was in all of this. He and his siblings had voiced the questions on the whole trip, and she had only been able to answer with a soft, I don't know.
"He'll come. If I know him, and I think I do, he's charging through the land in a temper, ready to fight anything, climb anything, and barge through any challenge to find his family." She could imagine that very scene. How many times had she seen Cairo charging into the scene of an attack, hackles up, teeth bared and flashing, eyes blazing sapphire? He had always been there to rescue her, like a hero from the Elder's stories when she was but a pup.
She pulled away, and gazed at the children. They had grown so swiftly. It should have been Guinevere here, in her own place. Not Erani herself. Erani sighed and looked out to the falling ash snow. Guinevere should have lived to see her children grow into the wonderful minds and graceful wolves they were becoming. Instead, her body lay buried beneath earth, and now ash and debris.
Quietly, she turned and returned to her post at the entrance. Listening and waiting. Hoping and knowing, that he would come.
Now, she sat in the entrance of the hollow redwood, questions of her own whirling through her mind, flitting in and out like snow flakes passing through rays of moonlight. Her cerulean eyes searched through the black snow that fell, as she listened to the sleeping breathing of the pups. Nearly all of them. The breathing of Syrinx was that of a restless, waking mind, sleep not wanting to come. She rose, turned, and went to the firstborn son of Cairo, the future Alpha of Valhalla, should it survive the upheaval of home and comfort.
Settling beside him, she bent, and made to softly groom the ash from his brow, as best as she could, sending as much of a sense of calmness to him. She knew he wondered where his father was in all of this. He and his siblings had voiced the questions on the whole trip, and she had only been able to answer with a soft, I don't know.
"He'll come. If I know him, and I think I do, he's charging through the land in a temper, ready to fight anything, climb anything, and barge through any challenge to find his family." She could imagine that very scene. How many times had she seen Cairo charging into the scene of an attack, hackles up, teeth bared and flashing, eyes blazing sapphire? He had always been there to rescue her, like a hero from the Elder's stories when she was but a pup.
She pulled away, and gazed at the children. They had grown so swiftly. It should have been Guinevere here, in her own place. Not Erani herself. Erani sighed and looked out to the falling ash snow. Guinevere should have lived to see her children grow into the wonderful minds and graceful wolves they were becoming. Instead, her body lay buried beneath earth, and now ash and debris.
Quietly, she turned and returned to her post at the entrance. Listening and waiting. Hoping and knowing, that he would come.