deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerp
It had not occurred to Kaena that Halo might not have wanted this; it had not occurred to her at all that maybe her cinnamon-furred granddaughter was rejecting this beautiful life. The scarred canine could see him in no other light—he was her flesh and blood, passed down through generations and strengthened by their family. The hybrid's sable ears folded against her head, and she whined loudly at Halo's outburst, clutching the child closer to herself, afraid the yelling would disturb him. “Calm down,” the coyote said, her voice soft though with an authoritarian edge to it—she outranked Halo both in terms of hierarchy and family. “You didn't have to ask for him—he's here. It does not matter how he came to be, he is yours and he is mine all the same,” the hybrid said, staring at Halo. She could not understand the ruby-eyed girl's rejection of this little thing; she could not even begin to fathom it. “I did not ask for Zulifer's children, or Ahren's, or Laruku's—most of my children, I did not ask for. Do you think I'd trade them for anything?” the hybrid asked. She had even only accepted Astaroth's children—this was the closest the silver-shaded woman had come to actively seeking her own progeny.
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