ooc:
Stubborn was the Nomad that clung to her bed of various furs, and selfish had she become in wallowing in her own grief. Dismissive, bothered, it could hardly be said that she was worth speaking to like this. A useless heap tangled on the floor holding dearly to the trinkets of the past better left hidden. A dagger commemorating the spark of longing that came to life with her love’s first departure. A jeweled collar meant to convey an everlasting love gifted by whom she had given her all for. She could have laughed bitterly at just how unfavoring ‘love’ was to her, but the will was not in her nor could she be bothered to waste her breath on something so petty. But she would do as she had done for the past couple of days; she would look to these items, recall the good they brought her, then hide them away again to be surfaced on the following day and use them as a means to bring calm to her internal turmoil.
Fixing her piles of furs atop the trinkets again, she would rise then and acknowledge the pup waiting for her attention with a gentle lick, then pull him into her arms to leave the den and take on the afternoon. As it had been for days, her daily grooming routine was forfeit. The bipedal form was retained during her critical time more for the sake of abating her receptive behavior than for added mobility. When her movements would have been swifter on all fours, she also knew it was in that vulnerable posture that her sense was pushed aside for instinct. Those troublesome drives felt harder to control, and as she was now at least mentally, her desire was to keep as much of herself as she possibly could. But even that tactic felt like it was failing as the days crept by.
But she couldn’t dwell on that now, nor the sadness that lingered about her proud form. She had a pup to keep happy and could not afford to let her troubles spill onto him. As promised, the day would be a day of play but with a little introductory training to get his senses working more. What better place than the gardens with their solid pillars acting as obstacles for the pup to overcome. She would teach him to feel the difference of the ground and enrich his nose to the scent of earth and rock. All in the hopes that in time he would engrave it to memory so that he would not stumble but walk with certainty. Arriving, she let her charge get familiar with the area while she procured a rock to practice on. While he sniffed around and experienced his first bumps with the rocks, she assumed a vertical stance on top of her favorite rock. Her hands braced against the stone and feet touching the sky, she reacquainted the muscles of her arms to her weight and tightened her core left untrained for days. Wallowing was not an excuse to let herself fall out of shape, she reasoned mentally. Besides, training had always served as a worthwhile distraction from things she’d rather not think about.
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