Broken Antler Fen no fui suficiente una vez

It was quiet lately and the female had been hunting field mice all day to fill the caches at least a little and she took the time today to soak up the sun of the day before winter came and snow covered the floor and it would be too cold to lay straight on the ground.

work & phone post. please excuse typos, etc.

praimfaya passes her time either attending lessons, patrolling or hunting despite how meager the catches she manages are. a scrawny opossum hangs from betwixt her jaws as she weaves thru roangeda’s territory with the ease of intimate familiarity. already, she knows the territory well enough to claim that she could walk it blind. the air holds a permeating chill and her breath spills out around her catch in small tendrils of steam that writhe in the air before dissipating. it is on her way to a cache that she sees the familiar form of catalina in the distance, appearing to be enjoying the warmth of the sunshine. a low muffled chuff of greeting is given in lieu of verbal greeting, sure that her words would be lost in the muffle.

nanowrimo: 130

As she rested she kept her ears open for anything and caught a chuff come from another wolf and she stood up and directed her attention towards it. The young wolf came into veiw and she returned the greeting with a smile. "Hello." She said simply. "Everything good?" She asked

everything good, the testa asks the worlida and for a second praimfaya is quiet, considering it. though it is spoken in a way that praimfaya understands it to be a small talk piece it is a weighty question all the same. with roangeda? or with her? roangeda was doing ok though the famine was taking it's toll on everyone — though surely, praimfaya thinks, she did not need to explain that to catalina. with herself? hell no. finding ingram's body has devastated her, fresh grief rehashing old grief of blodreina's death that praimfaya had never really dealt with in the first place. inside, she felt war torn, like a battlefield that would always, always bear the scars. but outside ...she is worlida ...she will be wanheda someday.

when you are weak, appear strong...

praimfaya is good at putting on a brave face. so that is what she does. day after day. put on a brave and strong face for her roankru. as good as they can be. praimfaya finally settles in response after sitting her scrawny catch at her paws, salmon pink tongue darting out to clean up any blood or flesh bits that might be sticking to her jowls. are you hungry? it seems like a foolish question to ask — weren't they all hungry? — but praimfaya gestures to the catch at her paws all the same. you can have it, if you'd like.

a good commander looks out for her kru.

praimfaya gives the scrawny opossum corpse a small nudge towards catalina in case the testa decides to take it.

nanowrimo: 276