she had recovered quickly; it took little for her fierceness to return. alongside her family, she gained strength, and while she did, she grew. her round little form stretched and grew until she looked less like a potato and more like what she was meant to be; legs growing long, muzzle growing snippy and ears pricked atop her head to catch whatever sound passed her by.
she woke tucked beside the form of @Olive, and immediately let her state of wakefulness be known by a screeching call. it was night; a time in which she ought to be sleeping, and yet was not, could not. wakefulness had barrelled into her like a steam engine, and there was no going back to sleep now. blinking rapidly until her vision cleared from foggy sleepiness to the clearness with which she now saw the world, she peered out into the world shrouded by dark. she did not know particularly what had woken her, nor did she care; instead, she determined that she ought to be doing something.
she lurched to her feet ungainly and immediately made for the entrance of the den, desire to leave fierce. she moved as quickly as a month old pup could, heading into a straight line into the Unknown.
she woke tucked beside the form of @Olive, and immediately let her state of wakefulness be known by a screeching call. it was night; a time in which she ought to be sleeping, and yet was not, could not. wakefulness had barrelled into her like a steam engine, and there was no going back to sleep now. blinking rapidly until her vision cleared from foggy sleepiness to the clearness with which she now saw the world, she peered out into the world shrouded by dark. she did not know particularly what had woken her, nor did she care; instead, she determined that she ought to be doing something.
she lurched to her feet ungainly and immediately made for the entrance of the den, desire to leave fierce. she moved as quickly as a month old pup could, heading into a straight line into the Unknown.
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Ooc — Rosie
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Olive was awake the very moment the boisterous girl had begun to wriggle. Olive was a light sleeper, and rightfully so; it always gave her an extreme sense of panic when she would awaken to find her babies not immediately at her side. Several times they had breeched the confines of their new, mountainous den and gave their mother quite a start — so the woman had developed a very light and fleeting method of sleep. If they were awake, she was awake… and if she wasn’t awake, then Dakarai’s large frame provided an adequate blockade. But, at that moment there was no hurdle to climb so Olive watched as the form of her inky daughter obscured against the sunlight dripping in through the den’s entrance and then was gone.
With a huff, Olive pulled herself from the cool floor of the den and poked her head outside — looking for the scampering form of Cassiopeia, which was surely running off in some crazy trajectory, banner raised and paws flying from excitement of her flight. Olive wouldn’t intervene unless Cass absolutely needed her help — who was she to stifle such divine childhood creativity and energy?
With a huff, Olive pulled herself from the cool floor of the den and poked her head outside — looking for the scampering form of Cassiopeia, which was surely running off in some crazy trajectory, banner raised and paws flying from excitement of her flight. Olive wouldn’t intervene unless Cass absolutely needed her help — who was she to stifle such divine childhood creativity and energy?
and all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams
are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams
in what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams
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