WC :: 643 :: All bruising is yellowed now, ribs are no longer wrapped, but still slightly swollen, and random cuts are all small pink lines. The ugly scarring on her inner thigh is still a dark red, but fur is beginning to grow back over it.
Deuce had been right! Palaydrian’s vision in her right eye was restored in full, though both of her eyes now shared shared the heterochromia look. The ocean hues in her right eye which had taken the brunt of Aram’s closed fist, were now permanently flecked with a scarlet red, much like blood diffusing through water, but having her sight back was all that she had wanted. The splotch of blood in her left had dissipated a few days ago and all that remained was the spot of sea green against its luscious amber hue. The girl feared the blur would never go away, but when she had woken up in the morning and made her way to the river to bathe, she realized with surprise that everything she saw on the way was taken in with perfect clarity.
Drin experiencing her second week of the torturous heat cycle her body so graciously reminded her that she was fertile each month and after a rather racy dream, she had left the den to cool off both mentally and physically in the river. She had washed her long tresses with soaproot she had found nearby and once satisfied that her naughty heat thoughts would plague her no more, Drin had waded out of the water, and laid out in the grass to dry herself in the sun. Hopefully her little rinse would abate the heat scent as well. It was getting easier to move around, now that the bruises and rope cuts on her wrist were gone and the swelling in her bruised ribs had significantly gone down. Deuce had believe a few of her ribs had been cracked and that’s why it was taking so long, but the subord had been overjoyed when she was told she could remove the wrappings. Still no hunting or any strenuous activity was allowed until further notice and that also meant no shifting.
She felt lazy, but knew that was a silly thought, at least she could still garden. But it had been weeks since she had tasted life blood in her mouth from a hunt and Drin was afraid she be a little more than rusty. Yet, Jiva provided for her and filled her days with activities and adventures to pass the time, something she was incredibly grateful for and something she desperately wanted to pay him back for in...well ways only heat could suggest. She lightly bit down on her tongue with the thought when a howl and a cry of a bird wavered in the distance. Jiva? She rolled off the ground and stood up, wavy hair now a bit more manageable that it was damp. Her hands grabbed it at the nape of her neck and twisted it down to her navel before tossing it over her shoulder to move towards the mysterious voice.
The first time she had heard someone call Jiva’s name, it had been a visit and a day she didn’t like to much remember, but this was a male, and his call was possessive...no, it was paternal. Her heart began to pick up its pace as her legs moved faster, carrying her towards the borders she still wasn’t ready to cross. As she neared the heavily marked territory of New Dawn, Drin slowed down to pick out the strangers scent within the familiar ones before her eyes were drawn to a gray male sitting upon a rock. But her eyes were fixed to the mohawk between his ears. The similarity was instant and Drin couldn’t help but begin to smile as she continued her approach, but it wasn’t until she saw his green eyes that she knew who the stranger was. You must be Jiva’s father, she said, now fully grinning. It wasn’t a question it was definitely a statement.
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