The Sentinels estranged

She was the last to be removed, the last to be tended to; a wet and miserable creature, gracelessly ripped from the warmth of her mother's womb. Was she fated to die, deprived of oxygen while still in her amniotic sack? It would be a blissful death, a mercy to die in such a manner. She would not rot, becoming a septic bulb to poison her mother from within, nor would she know how cruel death could be, malicious and unforgiving. If she was to die, it would be peaceful; she would simply not wake up, and perhaps her soul would wander the coast until it found a new body to inhabit, one with a more blessed fate.

Sandpiper, however, was a Cairn wolf. Although she might one day grow to be a svelt, elegant creature, cursed with asimilar physique to that of her late mother, she was born with the spirit of a sea wolf. True to her family's honour, she was born a fighter. Her little limbs wriggled, soft claws catching against the membrane of her prison. [size=large]A[/size][size=large] hing leg ripped through, and was hit by unwelcome cold. She pushed away in shock, body moving in an automatic way. Her snout pushed through to reveal a tiny black nose, the pink slip of her tongue, preventing her from suffocating immediately, but surely not for long.[/size]

[size=large]Fight![/size]

[size=large]Her chaotic introduction to the world was truly just the beginning.[/size]