The cream furred woman stood alone in her room, staring at the dusty mirror. It had been weeks since she had last seen her beloved Pippa, a number of weeks, and she did not expect to see her again. The woman did not feel any emotions right now. There was no sadness, no despair, no anger for the rust and white woman’s unannounced departure. Simply, the Monroe matriarch felt nothing. Her body and mind felt empty, and she was looking at her distorted reflection to find some sort of feeling. Though she knew that she felt nothing, she did not understand why that was so. Everything in her being wanted to be angry with Pippa for leaving her without even so much as a good bye or an explanation, but she could not bring herself to do it. Perhaps it was better that she did not know the exact reasoning behind her lover’s prolonged absence, for that was what it had began as. Somehow, however, the fiery-haired woman knew that Pippa would not return to her.

Lolita did not know why she felt that Pippa would not return to Dahlia de Mai; she simply knew it. Perhaps she even knew the reasoning behind her beloved’s departure. When her first lover had come to be with her in this pack so far away from their birth home, she had found that Lolita had not been faithful, as she had apparently been. The Dahlian woman did not regret what she had done, for she had thought it was certain that she would never be with Pippa again. It was forbidden, it was wrong, and they never should have been together. Their mother would have disowned them, had she been alive, and perhaps her uncle would have taken her life, as well, to punish her for corrupting the sweet and loving Pippa. But Lolita knew that her sister and lover had been so terribly hurt when she had come to realize that Lolita was pregnant, and she knew that Pippa had resented the three girls from the very start of their short lives. She could not begrudge Pippa that, for she felt that she would have felt the same if the situation had been reversed. It was upsetting, but it was understandable, and that was why she could not be angry with her.

It had been well over a year since she had first come to live in the pack named after a flower, but it had never truly been a home to her. Lolita had never settled in this area, never found comfort in those that lived in the pack or the surrounding packs. Though her girls were enjoyable, they did not make the pack a home for her. Poppy was her favorite, of course, but she was finding it difficult to look at the small girl without seeing Pippa’s accusing eyes. The small girl would always be the favorite of her children, and she would not allow herself to be separated from her. It seemed that Poppy felt the same about her, for the small girl wished to accompany her mother away from this place. Foxglove, too, did not wish to stay. It was only Magnolia, the most exuberant of the three girls, who wished to take refuge in her father’s pack. Lolita did not know how she felt about that, for she did not like the idea of her daughter living in the care of Vigilante, but she could not deter the young girl. They would bring her there today, it had been decided.

The only regret that she had was that she would not be able to take the bodies of her deceased son and daughter with her, but this was where they had passed, and this was where they would rest for eternity. Perhaps she would come to kneel beside their graves once more after today, but if that were to happen, then it would be a very long time from now. Lolita exited her room with a final glance in the dirty mirror, descending the stairs and moving quietly out through the front door. The tree beside the door to the large Victorian house had lost its leaves long ago, but jade eyes did not pay this any attention. The woman knelt beside the trunk of the tree, lithe fingers softly touching the dirt where her children lay. Lolita did not say anything—for what was there to say?—but simply stayed there for a long time, silently accepting that she would not do this again in the future she saw for herself.

It was a long time before she finally moved from where she knelt with a sorrowful look up at the tree that would protect Orchid and Iris until the end of time or until it, too, finally fell. She brushed her hair away from her face as she stood. This was the last time she would kneel there and think of them, for she would not pause on her way out with her three living girls. There would be no stops in Dahlia de Mai, no one that she wished to say good bye to. She had ventured to Conor’s home the day before and explained to him that she was leaving. She simply could not stay any longer, and though she did not tell him the main reason why, it was because of Pippa. She did not want to stay in the place where she had been reunited with her lover, only to be abandoned so soon after. If Pippa were to return, Lolita would no longer be there, and she would not go looking for her lover and sister. They were separated now, as they should have been when Lolita died.

Upon entering the house once more, the woman called for her three flower girls. They came to her and she picked up her faded leather bag that she had brought here such a long time ago. There was nothing left in the house that she needed, nor wanted, and the girls did not have many of their own possessions. She would be travelling light with Poppy and Foxglove, some strips of dried meat in her bag for the journey. Otherwise, they did not carry much. She had taken her paraphernalia and her jar of the picked herb out and left them by the plant she had been growing among the trees near the one she had lived in prior to moving into the large house with Pippa. Surely someone would find them and find use for them, for they were of no purpose to her any longer. She had not used them in many months, and she did not anticipate using them ever again. She seemed to be capable of continuing to walk without using the drug, despite her death.

The woman walked with the three girls out of the house and away from Dahlia de Mai without so much as a backwards glance. Though the girls chattered on, Lolita remained quiet as they walked, taking frequent breaks so that the girls did not get tired. She rotated carrying them, especially because of the snow on the ground. It was better to give each a long rest in turn but to continue their walk. The Miracles pack was a long journey from the pack of flowers, and they stopped when darkness fell, huddling together in an old den. It likely belonged to a fox or a badger, but it was large enough for the three girls to stay comfortably inside, and Lolita curled her lean two-legged body around them with her back to the opening. If anything came, it would get to her first, and her girls would be safe.

Morning came without problem, thankfully, and after a short breakfast of some of the dried meat strips, they set off once more for the pack that their father called home with his mate. Lolita wondered what it would be like for Maggie to live there, and she wondered if they would treat her right. Niro surely would, because though Lolita was not a fan of his insistence at seeing them, she knew that he truly loved them and would treat her well. It was his mate that she worried about, for she did not know the woman and she did not know if she even knew of his puppies’ existence. She hoped so, because Niro was receiving no warning that this was going to happen, and she did not know how he would feel about it. She hoped that he would not argue with her about Poppy and Foxglove leaving with her, but she had left it entirely up to them. They had made the decision to go with their mother, though she did not think she would have allowed Poppy to make a different decision. She was particularly fond of Foxglove, as well; she saw a great deal of herself in the little blonde girl, and she thought that they had an interestingly close bond.

It was the middle of the afternoon when the small family of female mixed canines approached the very same beach where the three girls had been conceived, and then three months later their father had learned of them and met them for the very first time. The air was even colder here, so close to the ocean, but Lolita did not anticipate that they would have to wait for very long. Niro had come quickly when he had been called for the last time, and he knew her voice now. Though she did not have a good relationship with the father of her three little girls—truly, she felt that he disliked her immensely, though she had no feeling of animosity or happiness for him—she knew that he would come quickly. He would likely assume that something was wrong with one of the girls, she mused, though it was not the truth. Even if she did not give him much credit for it, Lolita knew that he cared for them greatly, more so than she had ever expected him to.

While the girls played together in the drifts of sand and snow, Lolita remained close by them, watching them for a long while before she finally raised her slender muzzle and called for Niro again, the same call she had given only a few months before when she had finally told him of their birth. Lifeless jade eyes watched the horizon until she could see him making his way toward them. The Monroe matriarch knew that he would be confused to see her there with their three daughters and a single bag of their possessions (the very same bag from which she had produced the alcohol that had led to the conception of Poppy, Magnolia, and Foxglove), and she could see the emotion register on his face for a full moment before he was finally close enough that the woman of creamy coloring could speak to him.

“I am going away, Niro. I cannot remain here any longer,” she stated simply, knowing that even if he did question her reasons why, she would not be able to explain them to him. He did not need to know why she was going; he simply needed to know that she was. Lolita did not think that he would understand why she had to leave, either, and she did not think it would be important to him. The only thing that tied them together was parenthood, and they had done so accidentally. She did not wait long before speaking again, for she did not want him to think that she was doing this selfishly and was flaunting it in his face that she could take his daughters away from him. Truly, she did not feel that way, and she had thought of this prior to making the final decision to leave. That was why they were there, it was why she had given the girls the choice to either stay in Cour des Miracles with their father or leave with her. She could never have taken them away without a choice.

Lolita could feel the eyes of her three beautiful daughters watching her curiously, but she continued to look at Niro, for he was the one she was speaking to. Everything that happened with Magnolia now would be entirely at his discretion, for she would not even be in the area any longer. “I asked them all what they wanted to do. I gave them a choice. Poppy and Foxglove will be coming with me, but Magnolia would like to stay here with you, if it is to be allowed by you and your mate,” she said, looking for some sign of confirmation from the mohawked man that he did want his most boisterous daughter to come live with him. When she received no negative answer from him, she inhaled shakily, nodding. Deep within herself, she supposed she had been hoping that he would refuse to give their daughter a home and that Lolita would have to take all three of them with her. The emotion did not make sense, as she was not feeling terribly sorry or pained at the idea of leaving with only two of her daughters. It could not be explained, but she still felt possessive over her three lovely young daughters, and she did not like the idea of sharing them, even in her absence. It was a bizarre feeling.

Lolita knelt in front of her grey daughter, lithe fingers resting beneath the girl’s chin. This would be the last time that they saw each other for a long time, perhaps even forever. She looped her arms around the girl’s neck in a hug and held her there for a long while as Poppy and Foxglove said their good byes to their father. The dead woman finally pulled away from her daughter, gaze lingering on her face for a moment before she began rummaging through her bag. It had been a long while since she had last looked at this object, but she had cherished it and kept it safe in her bag since long before even coming to this area. Lolita ran her fingers over the smooth green stones of the bracelet that Pippa had given her years before. She would not see it again, but she felt no remorse. She reached down and circled it around Magnolia’s left foreleg, watching it settle over her paw after she finished securing the clasp. It was big for her, but Lolita did not fear it falling off, and she hoped that her daughter would wear it forever to remind her of her mother. “I love you,” she whispered, her muzzle close to Magnolia’s small ears.

Finally, the woman knew that it was time to leave. She rose, adjusting the long strap of the faded and worn bag over her shoulder. She watched with growing sadness as Magnolia went to Niro’s side and Poppy and Foxglove returned to her own. The good byes were spoken and there was nothing left to be done here, and there was no need to continue to prolong the process. “Good bye, Niro. Please… Take care of her,” she requested softly. Somehow, she knew that he would, but she needed to speak the words, regardless. It was strangely easy to do, but she turned with the daughters who would remain in her care and they began their journey far, far away from this place. She did not know where they would go, but she expected that it would be warm there, wherever they went. Lolita had never been built for the cold, and even in her birth pack, she had been uncomfortable with the weather. She had inherited a great deal of shepherd genes, and she knew that Foxglove had, as well. Though her fur was thicker, Poppy would enjoy the warmth, too. More importantly, somewhere warm would be far away from here.