Smiling, she nodded to Svetlana. “Yes, your sisters. You haven’t met them yet, they’re both grown women now, strange enough as it is to say, and they live in their own packs. They both have white coats much like our own, but Titania has some silver and red here and there, and Juliet is cream with a few red splashes. They got the red from their father,” she looked away, gazing out over the field, though not in sadness but in fond memory. “They have a different daddy than you, but I’m their mommy. Titania lives in the north, in a pack called New Dawn. And Juliet, she lives south, in Casa di Cavalieri. When you’re old enough I’ll take you to see them.”
She looked back down at her daughter. There was more she could tell her, so much more, but it would be a great leap of faith in expecting Svetlana to understand. The young girl couldn’t understand all of it, not just yet, but she deserved to know. She would work it all out and understand as she grew older.
There was also something else, something her daughter had tried to talk to her about before but the wound was too fresh for her heart to handle it. But it was about time she started treating her daughter as more than just a puppy. Of course, she was a puppy, but that was only for now, and she would do nothing for her by teaching her to ignore issues.
“There was a brother, too,” she added slowly, gently. “Not Vladmir, but another, who was born when Juliet and Titania were born. I named him Demetrius. He was hurt, when he was just a tiny tiny baby. He died.”
Somehow, she managed to speak about the child without tears in her eyes. Her sadness over Demetrius had mended, but she would always miss her first born son. She knew he was okay, though, for his spirit used to visit her and Shawchert when they lived together in Cercatori d’Arte.
She stopped there, letting Svetlana have time to process the story, and form any questions she might have. Even if those thoughts led her to asking about Vladmir and Misha.
Photo courtesy of Alaskan Dude
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