Blackfeather Woods going off my head, down to somewhere

relmyna draped one foreleg over the other. in her throat, soft chuckling mounted as she watched the antics of the boisterous pair. both were distracted by the colorful fluttering by something out-of-doors, though astara bore the brunt of that choice. on the remains of her mute tongue rose the word butterfly — relmyna's jaw tightened briefly with a bitter stab of regret, shame that she could not communicate with her little ones.
watch them she continued to do, if with some sadness arcing unfairly through her heart.