table © Alaine
ooc: me too <3
wc: 500+
For a long while, it seemed as if the unlikely but suited pair would be content forever in the heart-felt embrace of one another. For Alaine, the wiry strength of her daughter's arms was a life-line, the sweet lavender scent of her violet-tinged mocha pelt a second chance at what had been slowly slipping away from her in the past few weeks. Sanity. Love. When Sylvie withdrew, her startling purple eyes were piqued with disapproval at the cream and ivory dame's nonchalance regarding her last meal. Food seemed so... Distasteful. Unimportant when one was determined to survive on longing and memories alone.
However, the healer was not noted as the Cour des Miracles Apothecary (and more so, for she had healed many from other packs who had sought her aid) for nothing - Somewhere, in the dark crevices of her old consciousness, the woman could recall that food was necessary, and that eating something was likely to clear the clouds in her mind much quicker than simply sitting would. Sylvie's words echoed that dormant thought, and as she pulled her listless foster-mother back into a warm hug Alaine simply smiled vaguely, her emerald eyes trailing over the other's grown form.
The maiden's mention of searching for food provoked a strange reaction from the prime-aged martyr. Shallow jade orbs immediately grew dark, and her maw opened as if to ask or plead her daughter's presence to remain. But the sudden terror of being left alone subsided quickly; Sylvie would not leave her. She could see it in the girl's eyes, that determined glint that reminded her so much of her own kindred. Her foster daughter had made up her mind on something crucial, and the healer knew her decisions to be stubbornly concrete. With a reluctant smile, Alaine nodded numbly. If she was in her right mind, the matriarch may have chided her child for using such a stern and dominant tone, but in her weakness Alaine possessed a strange weary submissiveness, as if she knew that what Sylvie chose to do would be best for her in the long run.
Her gaze only returned to the window once the lilac girl had left the room. Sunlight now filtered in, warming her pelt and the protrusions beneath it. One floppy caramel ear flitted back to hear her daughters motions downstairs, as she no doubt rummaged for food - There would be some strips of dried deer-meat that Alaine had treated with salt a few weeks ago to preserve them, and perhaps a few of the small fish-cakes that she had likewise cured for longevity. Such meats were good for preserving for the oncoming winter, when land-dwelling prey disappeared and the fish were protected by the ice-cold waters. Alaine had fallen behind on her up-keep; If the winter was harsh, the fact that she had not stored away much meat would mean for lean pickings. It would be foolhardy to rely on the presence of snow-hares to survive.
Such thoughts flitted through her head like a pair of sparrows, darting this and thus, never truly grounding itself to conscious recognition. All the while the woman simply sat at the edge of her bed, smiling slightly as too-old emerald eyes gazed blindly out at nothing.
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