The Sentinels estranged

Tiny, vulnerable, still. The infant shewolf called Moorhen was spilt unto the world in the most unconventional way, and thus, she remained unconventionally silent. One might've thought she was dead if not for the steady thrumming of her heart. And, indeed, her first breathful of clean, saline air was silent as well. Her lungs pulled strong and true in her chest, but she gave no lusty cries of life as her cousins had before her, as many small wolves had done before her.

But she was alive. She was spilt from the dead womb and pulled into the living world, cleaned by a living tongue, touched by a living fire that quickly took up in her heart.

She was alive.