Firefly Ravine how light carries on endlessly, even after death

It was often that parents never claimed to have a favourite, whether they actually did or not, so that they would not hurt the feelings of the others. Sen, however, had an obvious favourite—Sao. Not because she'd done anything magnificent, but simply because she'd been born first and had, for the most part, stayed quiet. In the past few days, however, she'd been quite the nuisance, bothering the serpent to the point in which she'd almost started to believe that she would never sleep again. While the younger sister's cries had been manageable simply by touch alone, the firstborn didn't seem to operate the same way, resulting in the mother having pushed her aside. If all she could do was cry, then she'd not be allowed as close as her sister was. Never had she even taken notice to how the girl had wandered a bit away on her own, for her mind revolved around one thing only: sleep.

Sometime in the night, after the woman had been left to sleep, she'd been woken once more by the cries of her daughter. Yet, she had not gotten up to investigate, assuming it was nothing more than her usually noises. Later on, though, there came a time in which she'd been dragged out of her sleep by some unknown forces, instantly alert, almost as if something had frightened her awake. But, as she'd looked around, she'd noted how there was nothing there. Just Chusi at her side, and... no Sao. That had forced Sen to her feet, eyes roaming all over the den before she'd wandered outside, scanning the surrounding area in search of her child. No matter where she looked, though, there was no body to be found. It was only after she'd calmed down that she'd scented the coyote, it's stench mingling with that oh her once wailing daughter. Directly after, she'd looked in on Chusi again, nudging the girl rather roughly with the intentions of getting some sort of noise out of her. To ensure that the younger child had not been killed while she'd slept, as she'd briefly assumed the other had been.

That wasn't quite right, though, was it? There was no blood, or at least none that she could see or smell. The coyote had not killed Sao—yet. For how long her life would continue, Sen did not know. She wanted to search for her, to locate the little wolf and drag her back home, but when she'd looked to the other one, she was reminded that she couldn't. Her focus had to be put into the protecting and watching the growth of the one that still lived, and so she'd gone back into the den and settled herself back around Chusi, doing her best to not think of what could have been.

Where's her mother-of-the-year award