500+
Slowly, the boy began to reach out towards her, and, while her mind wished to hesitate, she found that her body was already responding. And yet, she moved slowly, with careful and gentle movements. Her own hand reached out for one of his, the woad bound fingers brushing against his palm as if she believed that he would recoil from her touch. Her eyes tentatively met his, her gaze gentle and the natural intensity softened; when she felt that he would not move away, her hand grasped his carefully but firmly, her hand gripping his forearm as if she had caught someone who had fallen. Gently, she began to pull his small body towards her, bringing him against her side. Because of her swelled abdomen, she could not turn to offer an embrace, and so her arm reached over to hold him without suffocating him, and she knew the need for such space. She held him quietly for several moments, believing that he required such an embrace—or was it she that required such a thing—and that he needed comfort, although it was comfort that she was unfamiliar to giving.
After she had fled her father but before she had departed from Caledonia, she had seen glimpses of the others who had lived there, had seen those who had fought in battle and had joined their ranks as the battles started only to depart unnoticed. But she had seen the Healers and the Dreamers tending to the wounded soldiers. She brought her fingers to touch his face gently, to lift his gaze. The black female placed her hand against his brow as if to calm his mind, holding it there before allowing her hand to slide to his cheek. She wondered if such a thing would calm the boy as it had calmed the wounded warriors, but she knew so little. She was a warrior only, and though she was a Dreamer, she was a Dreamer only because she did Dream. She knew nothing of its profession, for none had been there to instruct her in such ways.
"Why are you afraid," she asked quietly, yet her quiet melody held no judgment. She wanted only for him to discover why he was afraid. Perhaps through knowing, she would be able to help him conquer such fear, for no fear was insurmountable. But, at that moment, she knew nothing of what caused fear. Perhaps she had caused such a thing, although she did not think that that alone would have provoked such a reaction, for he had reached out to her, and she had tried to reach out to him in return. And yet, how uncertain she was, how unfamiliar to the nurturing of youth. How little she knew of their fears and desires, for she had quelled much fear and desire from her mind as the warriors of olde. Many warriors now did not practice war as she did, did not draw their emotional attachment from their minds like poison from a wound. And yet, this pup was young, and he was a boy. Did he not have the chance to experience such things? Did not her pups have such a chance? She didn’t know. When did it begin? She did not know.