Larksong Grotto Victoria's Secret

vuk had finally bathed and groomed her fur into a semblance of control. without the raggedness to her pelt, she was merely the skinny waif who had first drifted to larksong's door, albeit with a deeper pain in her vivid turquoise gaze. cleaning seff's scent from her fur had made the woman weep with broken sobs she hid from terich in the heart of the grotto, unable to share with him the depth of her loss.

without seff, vuk found herself devoid of a reason to live, to go on, to see each sunset and sunrise. the insidious worm of life's end crept into her mind and set itself up there, whispering to the girl each eve that her pain would be soothed if she would seek the river and its depths. vuk resisted, but with every night's passing, her resolve weakened.

when jhala called her name at the mouth of her den, the patchwork wolfess was shaken from her reverie. a long, numb moment slipped by before vuk lifted herself and moved into the sunlight, her eys hooded against its brightness. 

she did not speak.