Hi, I'm Erin and I am made of fail!
Word Count → 350
The Consul's life had finally taken the turn that it needed to. She would never forget her adopted son or what had happened to him, but she could no longer waste away while she clutched her grief to her chest. Others needed her: her other children, her family, and Crimson Dreams most of all. What good was a leader consumed with grief? Such an emotion was blinding and if in her hobbled state something happened to her pack, it would be all her fault. Savina could not let that happen, and now that she had laid Denali to rest, she would make sure it didn't. It was summer, a time for growing and thriving, not for living in the past winter winds.
Grow her pack had, and now they had a new chunk of land that was now under their control. The Marino and her right hand had only done a cursory exploration of their new territory to see if it was fit and mark it as Dreaming lands. New borders always needed reinforcing though, especially by the alpha, and the Italian casually walked the edge of the new lands and marked wherever her scent had grown faint. Soon none would be able to mistake this land for neutral ground. It would be as much Crimson Dreams as the Manor and the beach to the south.
As the scent of the new orchard hit her nose it came accompanied with another scent, one that was familiar and still strange to her at the same time. Savina weaved through the trees and soon her emerald orbs behind the hulking form of the she-bear. Bears were creatures that the Italian lady naturally feared, but this one was an odd sort. She had comforted her upon the news of Denali's passing, even after the bear had suffered pain at her own jaws. The Consul halted when a few feet still separated the two predators—though there was nothing predatory about Malachi aside from her species. "How do they taste?" The fruit had a pleasing smell, but she had never thought to eat any.
Image courtesy of Hudson Gardner@Flickr; table template by the Mentors! By Noelle
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