Blackfeather Woods how do i tell love from the taste of blood on my tongue?

she did her best to care for Ocracoke's whelp, though her main attentions lie with her sister's litter, naturally. but every so often, she made the trip down to the Glen to see the little girl, borne of trauma, mostly ignored by her blind, listless mother. today, the pup squirmed around in the open, whining for Ocracoke, who was, as usual, inattentive.

ears pushed forward, Tahani trotted towards the babe, immediately sinking to her belly and cleaning the pup with long, gentle licks. she encouraged the brown ball of fuzz to come into the ruff of her fur, a warm place for her to sleep. the child's stomach was full--at least she was being fed, if not altogether cared for--so Tahani focused on gingerly massaging her sides with her tongue, trying to relieve the discomfort.

she had a name, but Tahani, in her mind, called her Tatik--faith. she'd been the only one of her siblings to survive, and the healer had faith that she would survive this world, no matter what it threw at her.