Dragoncrest Cliffs weeping many tears, she left me

erzulie returned to the den with a fish fresh-caught enough to stir against the ground where she dropped it. "@Swordfish. @Quennell."
their days thus far had involved many medicines, bandages, and hours of rest. she had come to assess them again, to conceptualize how their strength might be returning or still flagging.
her smile was light and encouraging, hiding her worry.

a mood had come over him.

or perhaps it was more than a mood, in the way it would not leave him once it had settled in. a stone wall given to plenty but swordfish now. he was still respectful, grateful even, but at some point the moping had turned into...nothing.

the truth of whatever it had become was held to his heart.

but he did not have the heart to ignore his maman. never, no matter any mood or shift in the once perky boy.

he nudged swordfish first, before he dared to test his own strength.

we can make this quick <3

her eyes moved between them both.
"come on, quen," she said quietly. "stan' up, if you can."
her eyes encouraged; her smile beckoned.

he could.

he just found the want for it very little in those soft moments. slowly he raised himself up. with a wobble, a little slip of weak legs. enough bedrest had whittled some of the finer muscles.

one step.

two step.

he wobbled and something in his back ached.

she steadied him with muzzle and shoulder; her eyes flicked him over and she nodded. "gettin' stronger, ti gason dlo lanmè," and her eyes shone. "tell me if an' where it be hurtin, quen, please."

the pain? there was a want to say everywhere, yet he knew it would not help his mother.

my back. near da... nub. it felt insulting to say. da base.

of the injury, the nub, the mangled flesh from bear teeth.

<3 fade?

erzulie put out her paw and offered a massage to his spine.
her voice lifted in a french song, she offered the dissolvement of pain; she hoped he would sleep.
more healing was needed. sapphique embraced quennell in the love of their arms, this son of the sea.