Deepwood Weald Fruit punch

just another post to keep things movin' here! if skellige kept gripping her paw lmk and i'll adjust!

the mother bears vision was tunneled toward the young thing on the earth, sleeping beauty, and moved with the malignance of a wrathful malificent who had never learned to love the briar rose. and so she did not note the other that had come upon her person until she felt the sting of their bite, and a disgruntled roar left her throat as she rose to her hinds. the pain was true and it was real, and the bear feared even moreso for the life of her children! the beastly thing gripped a paw, and with her free one she moved to cuff it before--why, she heard the scream of another in the distance, one of her boys! her swing paused as her round ears twitched. in a tongue untranslatable by any who did not know bear, she spoke her sons name: ulrich! before another wolf came upon her! her back! it was unreachable. and she stared at the white thing on the ground, slumped and little and weak, but knew that to kill it, now, would be to kill her own children, certainly, as these things would certainly kill her for it. that much, to some degree, she comprehended. the bear landed on all fours and began to move, roaring loud for her sons to hear, climb the trees, little ones, and wait for mother, though to the wolves, it was likely they heard roars, perhaps roars laced with hatred and wrath when truly there was only panic and fear there!

and deirdre lay there, deaf and dumb to it all, eyes closed. her sleep could be likened to death, as she felt no pain at all. shock was what had done this, and deirdre could not remember even that she lived at all. everything within her worked to repair as her two protectors rallied together for the cause of her life.