08-13-2010, 02:57 PM
Geneva had not allowed her thoughts to wander aimlessly for some time. But since she knew that her son was safe with her in the light house, she felt free enough to do that for the first time in weeks, since before Pripyat had been born. He was growing up bit by bit, and she was able to let go in microscopic baby steps. Thus, she felt a secure enough to let her guard down. The August sun was warm across her shoulders as it streamed in through one of the windows. Her mind wandered to the point where her thoughts became a soft-sided haze, and eventually she dozed somewhere between her waking concerns and her unconscious wishes.
The Whilom did not know what startled her awake, but there was a niggling in the back of her mind that something was not right. Then she realized it all at once, her head jerking up so suddenly that it sent a wrenching kind of pain down her neck. It was too quiet. Pripyat, although he did not have the crippling sense of caution his mother had, was very exploratory and curious. It was a constant source of worry and pride for the new mother. Pripyat was growing and expanding, becoming a more and more complex creature by the minute. It made her proud to watch him grow, but she knew that with every new bit of growth he was moving onward into a life where he wouldn't need her as much anymore.
The gray pelted wolfess rose and immediately scoured the first floor of the lighthouse. Her blue eyed boy was nowhere to be found. With her heart pounding ridiculously in her breast, she closed her olive colored eyes for a moment. Get a grip! Although he was certainly young, he was not incompetent for a creature his age. Her boy was intelligent and fiercely curious. That curiosity must have driven him away from the comparative safety of the lighthouse's interior. Her gaze found the window. The outside world would provide with so much for him to explore. Cursing her non-existent sense of smell, the harried wolfess took a deep breath and conducted herself outside, the agitated swinging of her tail belying her worry for her son.
He wasn't far away. He had began slipping out just a few days before, her own ghost child who did not make a sound. She never reprimanded him, not really. She only reminded him to let her know when he wanted to venture off, and not to venture too far away. Geneva crossed the sand to find him, thoughts and words solidifying in her mind. "Pripyat, I need to talk to you," she said to him, her voice soft and not reproachful.
The Whilom did not know what startled her awake, but there was a niggling in the back of her mind that something was not right. Then she realized it all at once, her head jerking up so suddenly that it sent a wrenching kind of pain down her neck. It was too quiet. Pripyat, although he did not have the crippling sense of caution his mother had, was very exploratory and curious. It was a constant source of worry and pride for the new mother. Pripyat was growing and expanding, becoming a more and more complex creature by the minute. It made her proud to watch him grow, but she knew that with every new bit of growth he was moving onward into a life where he wouldn't need her as much anymore.
The gray pelted wolfess rose and immediately scoured the first floor of the lighthouse. Her blue eyed boy was nowhere to be found. With her heart pounding ridiculously in her breast, she closed her olive colored eyes for a moment. Get a grip! Although he was certainly young, he was not incompetent for a creature his age. Her boy was intelligent and fiercely curious. That curiosity must have driven him away from the comparative safety of the lighthouse's interior. Her gaze found the window. The outside world would provide with so much for him to explore. Cursing her non-existent sense of smell, the harried wolfess took a deep breath and conducted herself outside, the agitated swinging of her tail belying her worry for her son.
He wasn't far away. He had began slipping out just a few days before, her own ghost child who did not make a sound. She never reprimanded him, not really. She only reminded him to let her know when he wanted to venture off, and not to venture too far away. Geneva crossed the sand to find him, thoughts and words solidifying in her mind. "Pripyat, I need to talk to you," she said to him, her voice soft and not reproachful.