Ayita was gravely injured. Hati had not been able to sleep all night, not after seeing the look on his father's face, the intensity in his green eyes. Amaranth and Kable had found her broken body, brought her home, and it was lucky they had found her when they did. Someone had attacked Mother. Hati could not comprehend who was capable of such a crime; his mother was the most gentle creature in existence, she would never have posed a threat or even defended herself. It made him tremble with emotion, a roiling mixture of anger and horror and heartache.
It evoked that dark nebulous fear of the unknown he had felt as a child, the dangers that lurked outside the safety of the kingdom. It had been war tearing his family apart; shadowy tribal warriors threatening his home before he was even born. He was far too young to comprehend more than the most basic sentiment: bad things were outside the pack, and he would be safe if he stayed with his mother. His father and uncle had gone into battle, and only one of them came back. Now he was mere shades away from his first birthday, growing tall and lean into adulthood, and yet... he had still not dared to cross the borders of the pack. Even though there was no war, Niro had been hurt and was bedridden, or so Skoll had told him. There was nothing for Hati out there in the wild. Cour des Miracles was safety. He wanted to stay here forever, even as his littermates branched out and explored and left him behind.
Hati stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame with deep concern in his pale eyes. He was frightened. For the first time, he saw his mother's age, and the thought of mortality occurred to him. She could not be with him forever. Things were changing too quickly for him - his body, his outlook, his goals - and he needed his mother to be the one steady element he could count on. Ayita was so small now, and it unnerved him to be taller than her. For a moment he considered shifting down, to be her puppy again, but that was a childish whim. He would need his height, his hands, anything he could offer her to ease her suffering. She might want food, or fresh bandages, maybe he could read her a book? "...I'm here, Mother," he whispered from the doorway, unsure if she was awake or asleep. He was her devoted shadow.
.hati001 b {font-weight:bold; color:#5b7c93; letter-spacing:1px; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.2em #; }
.hati001 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;}
.hati001 {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#ffffff; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/bPhjJ.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #4d4b4d; padding: 265px 0px 5px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#474747; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:.8px; line-height:12.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>