to feel the suns warmth

Cypress · 06-08-2011, 01:11 PM

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He followed his tawny mother silently, obediently. His head hung low as he followed slightly behind the smaller wolf. Much like the scolded child he felt he was, even though in just a few short months he would be a year old. His tail was no longer pressed tightly against the back of his thigh as it had been not long ago, though the appendage was still far from lax. Blue eyes never left the ground; watching the placement of every step his foot paws took so that just maybe he wouldn't stubble.

His thoughts turn inward as he blindly followed. Thinking of what he had done and the scene of rage his gentle mother had witnessed from him. He had known it was wrong, but that had not stopped him. When he felt the fury building in his chest it was as if his control slipped. The tighter he tried to grip, suppress it, and bottle it deep inside the stronger it bubbled forth. It time he would learn to calm it, to sooth the feeling away with a deep breath and a clear mind, but for now the boy was lost within the maze of his own confused and mingled emotions. He did not have the slightest clue were to begin; what steps he could take to better know himself.

It wasn't a long walk to the familiar flower bed. Anu's soft voice breaking Cypress away from his own thoughts. He nodded compliantly, taking the delicate young plant gingerly in his own cupped palms before kneeling down. Clawed fingers easily worked through the soft earth to make hole just large enough for the blossoming plant. Blue eyes looked to the face of his mother for approval before he placed the plant and filled in around, lightly tamping the soil as instructed. For the moment it seemed Cypress had lost his voice as he wordlessly got to his feet with another nod and dusted off his knees. Fetching first a watering can and then the needed water from the spring. He gave only as much water as he thought the little plant would need, having already learned from his mother at some point that too much could be just as damaging as not enough. Unsure of where that line lay, lacking experience to truly know, he once again looked to him mother. Had he at least not failed at this? "Do you..," his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Do you know what kind of flower it is?" He had learned a few of his plants and trees, for how could he not? But he did not know them all and this particular one was unknown to him.

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