Word Count :: 315
Pandemic belonged to her, albeit in a very different sense than Molcaxitl. He was not a slave to be commanded about; Eris could no more control him than she could truly control Sirius. And still, even so, in the same way that even Sirius belonged to her, so did Pandemic -- they were hers, part of her pack and part of her family. The hybrid marveled at this idea still, even faced with the silver-eyed youth. He was not so young anymore. He would grow, faster and faster, and one day he would stand before her, an adult -- strong and certain and built as Larkspur was. The sable coyote knew this in her heart, and yet she would cherish his childhood no more than his adulthood, brief as it was. The Auxiliary longed to see her son fulfill his magnificent potential, not in this child's body. He would be a strong adult, she knew, and though he would only be a boy so long, she already wished to see him grown.
She smiled at his words, although it was a faint smile, and she wrapped her head about him, tucking her face into his shoulder and holding him close to her. Perhaps he would outgrow and outweigh her soon. “We have all we need here, darling boy,” she purred, squeezing against him as she said this. “You'll grow up so strong here in Salsola,” the hybrid woman promised, vowing this to herself as well. “And you will have more siblings, and they will grow strong, too -- your father and I will have them,” the coyote said, determination filtering into her voice. Though it was not yet a certainty, the coyote knew in her bones it would be so sooner rather than later -- they would be blessed once again; fate did not produce such perfect darlings only to deny their parents further perfection.
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