Blacktail Deer Plateau Where is the love

It’d been a couple of days since the attack, and Lavenders wound was healing only a little. She wished the puncture marks in her scruff would go ahead and go away, because they hurt quite a bit. Sometimes when she was grooming herself, she would find some blood in her white fur, or even some yellowish discharge. This had started to worry her, because in her few months of life, she did know that yellow in wounds could mean infections.

She was grooming herself in Pema’s den of course, where she had stayed since the attack. She looked up at her mother figure, well one of them at least. The red woman was organizing her herbs, making everything neat. It looked nice, but Lavender would’ve done it differently, probably by color. She was a lover of color, and the way it corresponded with other colors and made the world glow. The small painted child turned her head to try and see her puncture marks again, then turned back to Pema.

Pema, is my neck infected? She asked with a childish whine, her tail sweeping across the floor of the den.