Altar of Twilight standing in the ashes at the end of the world

no longer did she suckle in the fierce way in which she used to, nor did she loudly utter her fierce distaste with everything. she became quieter, not as excitable any longer, the burning flame that was her fierce spirit wavering. travelling was exhausting. the constant change was exhausting. even loudly voicing her discomfort was exhausting. she longed to be warm and safe and sleep, if only for a time. when she was carried, er gaze did not peer at everything within range in excitement; it stared listlessly at the earth and the huge paws as they carried her...somewhere. 

she did not care for the disappearance of Sirius much- there was only the acknowledgement that one little body was missing. there was the cold of early spring, the great wear of travel, and the tension of her parents. yet still was she fierce, the only daughter, and when her mouther's chuff roused her from her half-sleep, did she squirm wildly, demanding to be let down, for then could she delight in the warmth and meal that mother offered.