Sorry for lateness U: Jus' been hobblin' all over the place lately ;u;
She had grown weary as of late. Those predominantly blinded eyes held something solemn, a subtle sadness. The King's slave had her own young to care for, now, though it pained her heart that she could not see the trio clearly, only making out the outlines and blurs of her offspring. It had been by Clover's generosity that the Boss had allowed her to keep these young ones, though she dared not to keep them within his chambers, fearing his wrath.
To put it honestly, the maiden was nothing short of paranoid. She had dug out a modest little den for her young, spending as much time as she could between chores with the trio. At the moment, her two boys were slumbering lazily, practically intertwined with one another, the eldest and the runt, though her daughter wouldn't have any of it. The pale grey pup wriggled and whined, and when the howl rang out, piercing that stale air, she only increased her protests. Wander's hark fell back as she bundled up her two boys and scooped up her daughter, knowing better now than to ignore the call of a superior.
Hush, little Peregrine, she mused softly to her wriggling daughter as she sought out the source of the howl, spying Sirius along the way. In a way, the dame did linger closer to him, fearful of other Salsolans, though at the same time kept her distance. There was nothing more than a lack of knowledge, one that she assumed wouldn't concern her much other than alter perhaps her chain of chores, and blind, mossy sights turned upon that pale blob. This wasn't the mourning, soot-hued woman she had seen milling around, no. But now, this sandy mistress seemed to hold near everyone in the palm of her hand, commanding attention. Hark twitched as she spotted the familiar smudge that was Clover, and she inched her way closer to the kind woman, posture still submissive.
Do you know what's going on, m'lady? the mottled maiden asked in a hushed tone, hesitant to raise her voice any. A trepidation stirred in her gut and she turned her maw back towards the King and the stranger.
Kek... came her fearful, soft verbal tick, harks falling aft into that waving hair.
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