and the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor
Her sister murmured about fighting, mostly to herself, and although it seemed like she’d missed the scarred woman’s point, Vesper smiled sadly at her and stretched back out on the deer hide bed with her muzzle on her paws. “I know there’s more to life now,” she assured her sibling, her tail sweeping weakly behind her. It was strange to see how far she’d come—from the young scrapper who’d entered the region strutting like a peacock, boasting of her purity and her strengths, to the Optio of a distinguished pack. But it amazed her just as much that she’d been able to exist doing no more than fighting.
The coyote sighed, blue eyes finding her sister’s broom yellow ones. “Both of us changed, and we’ll continue to—for the better.” It was empty comfort, not backed up by proof, but she hoped that it might help her quieter sibling. Her soft musing seemed to have disturbed the mottled brown hybrid, who was in her own little world right now.
And then Sparrow spoke.
Horror contorted the paler female’s face, and she quickly pushed into a sitting position. “Sparrow,” she growled, blinking in disbelief at the fawn before her. Her lip curled, but she wasn’t sure what emotions she was feeling—distress, rage at her father, at her sister, at herself—and she didn’t know what she should be feeling. She had never known what to say to comfort another creature, other than some empty whispers that made her feel like a pathetic liar.
Now, she said nothing, only strode over to her sister’s pathetic form and nudged her head harshly against her shoulder. “Don’t fucking say that,” she hissed, but when she shoved her sibling with her muzzle again to prove her point, her touch became softer—running gently over an ear then resting on top of Sparrow’s head.
“Don’t say that,” Vesper repeated. “I’ll never forgive you if you do.”
Sixth hundred post with Vesper! x3
table by raze; pattern by dinpattern
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