0000 WORDS Brother Raziel

let's join forces, we've got our guns and horses. i know you've been burned, but every fire is a lesson learned.

Sarka had finally found some sort of entertainment for herself near the den. A small yellow sunflower had started to grow near the entrance just off to the left side. And every day she had come out to see it and make sure that it was okay. Rather than off playing with her brothers as they usually did, the quiet girl would be doing her own thing. Sarka was assumed a mute by most of her family by now. She hadn't spoken one word even when she had learned how to speak the language her family spoke. She wasn't quiet sure what would happen if she spoke to them, she was worried. All the time about them, and about what they would think of her as well. And yet still, she had her small pleasures in the world like this little flower.
Sarka would sit herself near the flower, and cup her little white paws just around it enough to be sort of a distant hug. Her little blue eyes would watch the flower to make sure it was safe and healthy. While occasionally looking back to the den, and out towards the front in case her brothers were wrestling or mom was home from where-ever she went. It was her version of 'fun' compared to the play her siblings did. Maybe something was wrong with her?

ASTERISM＠ネバーランド

So many adventures could occur while the maiden was gone, out searching for a meal or whatever pleased her, but the child would find no comfort in venturing from the den without their maiden to help him to his destination. Little did the child know he had been inflicted by a condition that caused his strange thoughts of the maiden's death and his yearning desire to be with her at all times: separation anxiety. He found little things to comfort him, including a small bird who seemed to visit the denning area every day, to sing a lullaby to the children. Only he was found the one awake, hypnotized by it's song. Each time it would flee, a feeble whisper could come from the minute child, "Don't go..." His obsidian masked kin, Sarka, seemingly disappeared every day the maiden left, and only a myriad of thoughts would beg of her safe return. Venturing from the den was dangerous, but there were questions to be answered. His pearly costed sister had recently fled into the frosty world, and he would inch out behind him, carefully stepping around his siblings, should they be rough-housing. Just to his right, was the child, petite white paws cupped about a small flower, a feeble sunflower amongst the frosted grounds. 'She's so intrigued...' Curiosity tugged the Adravendi from his den, toward the petite girl. A quiet whisper from inky lips came to the girl, pleading. "Can you talk, Sarka?" Obsidian-masked ears would flatten, sadness stinging at jaded gems. "I wanna hear you... Why do you go and see this flower? I wanna know..."