08-03-2010, 11:04 PM
Geneva's icy-eyed son gazed intensely at Xeris, betraying something of his father's nature. He had inherited his intensity from the scarred one-eyed male whom he had hardly met or even seen, really. It brought Geneva up short to see him looking at Xeris that way. He was so interested and absorbed in this situation. The young boy nodded quietly as he contemplated the white wolfess's words. "Others may be different, but you and me are the same," he said, drawing his own, albeit flawed, conclusions. While they might not be exactly the same, Pripyat and Xeris were similar in that their faces were not totally marred.
"He is my own flesh and blood," Geneva said, nodding to the white female. There was a mixture of caution and pride in her voice. As far as she knew, no one aside from Jefferson knew about Pripyat's existence. While soul searching during her pregnancy, she had confided in her ex-packmate Jazper Knight about her condition. It had been a shock to find out that she was carrying Pripyat, much less that he would live to see his first sunrise, then his first day, and then his first week. Every hour with him was a miracle, as far as she was concerned. She had lost her first child, the only in her litter to survive, and so she guarded Pripyat jealously and carefully. She might have a touch of paranoia regarding her son, but she was trying to give him a healthy development despite her deepest fears.
She had named him Pripyat after a ghost town she had read about once. Prip-jat. The name was peculiar, and his namesake also strange. But in her own eyes, Pripyat could have been a ghost. He was the physical embodiment of the ghosts of everything she had longed for. At night she would sometimes dream that he was not real, and then wake up and find that it had all been her fears and doubts preying upon her. "No one else knows, apart from Jefferson," the soft voiced female continued. The look on her face was delicate. She hadn't trusted anyone else before this instance.
"He is my own flesh and blood," Geneva said, nodding to the white female. There was a mixture of caution and pride in her voice. As far as she knew, no one aside from Jefferson knew about Pripyat's existence. While soul searching during her pregnancy, she had confided in her ex-packmate Jazper Knight about her condition. It had been a shock to find out that she was carrying Pripyat, much less that he would live to see his first sunrise, then his first day, and then his first week. Every hour with him was a miracle, as far as she was concerned. She had lost her first child, the only in her litter to survive, and so she guarded Pripyat jealously and carefully. She might have a touch of paranoia regarding her son, but she was trying to give him a healthy development despite her deepest fears.
She had named him Pripyat after a ghost town she had read about once. Prip-jat. The name was peculiar, and his namesake also strange. But in her own eyes, Pripyat could have been a ghost. He was the physical embodiment of the ghosts of everything she had longed for. At night she would sometimes dream that he was not real, and then wake up and find that it had all been her fears and doubts preying upon her. "No one else knows, apart from Jefferson," the soft voiced female continued. The look on her face was delicate. She hadn't trusted anyone else before this instance.