Moonspear Second, don't you tell me what you think that I can be

The quicksilver mother never let her babies stray too far from her side, even when they believed themselves to be completely alone. Her son, Sirius, had been lost due to her carelessness — and the fae would be remiss to let it happen again with the two that remained at her side. Where a puppy could be found, Olive was never far off. She preferred to glissade amongst the shadows of the craggy mountain, giving a wide berth to the puppies as they bumbled about and explored their new world. Olive was relieved because they seemed no worse for wear from their perilsome inception, even though neither Aries nor Cass could verbally confirm nor deny. They laughed and babbled on as puppies should, and even though they might have recovered from the past, Olive still felt it quite strongly in soul as well as her scarred limbs, the beauty of which had been defaced at the behest of the black feather fuckers.

It was just as Olive was doing that afternoon, following the. He was over a month old now and exceedingly adventurous, a virtue that Olive had no intention of stifling. So she followed him silently, letting her movements be light and soundless and hoping that Arie’s nascent nose could not scry her scent from the winds. Perhaps she had grown into an overprotecting mother [did she not have a good reason to be?] but she always had this proclivity; smothering them in her kisses and affections from the moment of their birth. Olive was a melancholy woman, this she knew, but the sadness never touched the love she bore for her family. 

So when the man cloaked in white made to grab for her son, panic struck through her heart. Her mind went through the motions of leaping onto the scene, snarling fiercely and stealing her puppy away [from yet another wolf who wished to do them harm], but her body stayed put. Leaders of the pack were certainly the most dangerous and held the power to do the most unfathomable things and Olive had learned to fear their authority. The druid was defiant of it,  of course, but she would never show it —  her days of risking the lives of her family for vociferous and hedonic emotions were over. 

But, who was this man who felt the need to flaunt his authority in front of a pup scarily the size of a housecat? Olive was torn between what she [as a mother] wanted to do and what she [as a pack member] needed to do.  Olive grimaced and bit her tongue and pawed her toes into the earth as her son was shoved against the earth and she could no longer simply observe. So, the tiny shewolf strode cooly from the shadowed background, as if she had just come upon the scene and discovered the transgressions, tail pressed tightly against her rump, ears splayed backwards and against her head, a undulating whine emanating from her throat — everything about her exhibiting the submission that her son failed to produce. 

“Oh, sir,” she beseeched him demurely, “he’s but a child.” Her jade gaze flicked to the familiar dark shewolf who accompanied the alpha, then resettled on the man who threatened her dearest of kin — Charon, she recalled Amekaze saying. “My son knows not what he does.” If her voice sounded somewhat desperate, that’s because she was. Olive settled her body against the ground in a crouched position, ready to expose her belly if it was needed of her. Olive would do anything within her power to protect the sanctity of her son’s rosy little world, even if it included her own debasement. There was not much lower than she could go, after all.