The smoke-furred hybrid kept her hand on the other coyote, her hand stroking her daughter's head and shoulders and arms, a soft whine beginning in the back of her throat. She should have recognized that smell; she should have known. Haku. The hybrid's fingers went to wipe the tears from Rikka's face, trying to dry the wetness from the golden-furred cheeks of her daughter. Rage burned in the hybrid's chest, but she quelled it. She could do nothing to avenge Rikka at this moment; she was needed here. No matter how much the anger wished to burst through the silver-furred hybrid's relatively calm exterior, Rikka needed her mother now.
Her ears pinned against her head, the silvery hybrid bent forward to give the tawny woman a half-hug, gentle and avoiding her broken arm. “He won't hurt you again,” the coyote promised. Violence would not make Rikka feel any better, but the silvery coyote wanted for her to know that nothing would come here to harm her. Not with Kaena and grown-up Mason as her nearest neighbor. Kaena had watched the youngster grow from a thin, scrawny youth into a lovely young man, and even at ten months old he was already quite capable of inflicting some damage if he wanted to.
The younger woman's next words caused the elder of the pair to jerk visibly, though it was only a slight motion. Her face changed, and for a long moment she had no idea what to say. “He didn't do that to you... did he?” she said, hesitant, almost not wishing to know the answer.
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