in the days following relmyna's passing the girl went belligerent with grief, a hateful shade unloosened to the wilds. whatever she could sink her teeth into, she did -- whatever she could chase or kill or terrify with her frenzied sorrow, she did.
on the fifth day following her mother's passing she collapsed in a heap outside of bonesplinter ravine, her frame gaunt, her limbs cut and nobbed, with nettle and detritus clinging to her lackluster fur.
she was exhausted as she slept in the cairn, her sunken eyes closed in a dreamless sleep.
ofc! <3
astara slept like a sled-dog run ragged, her breaths drawn in cyclical bouts. had cinder not come along, she likely would have slept the entire day -- but the blackborn roused her into consciousness by the persistent nudges of his muzzle.
her ascent into the waking realm was groggy at best; first her eyes fluttered open, filmy and unseeing -- followed by the slow stir of her consciousness. she gradually became aware of a touch, and then a presence -- and with a harpy's gasp she recoiled fearfully from the shadow over her.
she was too exhausted to issue a crocodilian snap of her muzzle, and instead she weakly lifted her gums, revealing a show of teeth but little more.
aww he so cute ;-;
astara blinked slowly as the boy rushed into speech, explaining why he had come from where he had been, and sharing his name. the girl shared nothing, simply staring back in that dull way a prisoner of war might deliver a thousand-yard stare -- for she was, after all, still shocked by relymna's death and the unspeakable acts that had followed her mother's passing.
she said nothing, for she had never spoken in her life, and would not speak now -- and with overwhelming exhaustion, simply slumped back onto her side and issued a quiet, despairing whine. her mother was
dead -- and her grief sunk in with new tenacity.
the girl wallowed, her dark form draped across the cairn's long-deceased residents with a listlessness. she did not glance up as cinder pressed her, having neither the energy nor the will to entertain a stranger. could she not be left alone to her own devices, to process the death of her mother in peace? a mounting sense of frustration stirred in her heart, trickling outwards through her pulsing blood in leaps and bounds.
yet, still her company persisted -- his kind nature pouring forth by the way he spoke to her, the way he tried to no avail to rouse her spirits. she shook her head -- just once -- to the series of questions that pressed from his muzzle, and then her indigo eyes fell shut in desolation.
astara's indigo eyes remained shut even as cinder spoke again -- the first of his questions regarded with a narrow shrug of her shoulders, neither a helpful answer nor a genuine one -- and the questions that followed remained unanswered, save for the beleaguered flick of an ear.
had she known the redhawks were enemies to blackfeather, or had cinder known her to be an enemy, perhaps the situation would have been different.. yet it seemed neither knew of their parents' distaste of one another, as was often the case with youthful innocence, which saw through unfiltered and often unjaded eyes.
she was tired -- so tired -- taking a deep breath, the girl opened her eyes again, hoping cinder would be transformed to relmyna, and that she could forget this day ever existed.
but it was cinder that remained besides her, and no other soul.
the girl could not take this. she did not want company, she did not want to be consoled. she wanted her mother. with a snarl, she suddenly rose -- and without nary a glance back, tore from cinder's company and galloped wildly for home.