Blackfeather Woods the green mile

When a sob broke the silence his ears slicked back, gaze seeking out that of the child’s. It did not take a genius to pinpoint the source of her sorrow, especially not after having followed where her eyes led. Back up went his ears and he inched towards her, offering his presence as something she could lean into and embrace; he could never replace her siblings—no one could—but he wanted her to know, at least, that he was there. He would not leave, not whilst the woods still stood and his body continued to move. Yet he could linger there for only a moment, the glen soon invaded and the sanctuary of the children breached.

Each motion was quick, a lounging mother turned beast, her children tucked aside. Kove saw them—the newest additions to the woods—and he cared for their well-being more so than the intrusion itself, for the adults of the woods would always be capable of handling themselves far better than the young. He took a moment, a fleeting second, to jab roughly at his apprentice’s side and urge her towards the whelps, though he did not wait to see if she complied. Immediately after contact was made he was turning, teeth bared and tail arching as he rushed towards the dark mass; should he have the chance to do so, he’d shove past the new mother in an effort to take the lead, jaws agape and snapping at whatever he could reach long enough to close them around.