Dawnlark Plains back when all her quiet words were thunder

he had heard, briefly, about dawn's altercation with the pale man in the maplewood. his mind leapt to the conclusion that it had been the brute spitting fire at them the other day, and he began to formulate a plan to go after him--but first he must speak to his mate. a freshly-killed hare clenched in his jaws, aditya padded to the place where she rested, setting the kill by her paws and stepping back. loir was there, speaking; he waited until his apprentice was done before he piped up.

"eat, mer--dawn," he corrected, dipping his head in abashment. his old nickname for her came so easily, there were times when it nearly slipped out of his mouth, especially now, when she was in this state. his golden eyes lifted to rest on her shredded ear, lips pulled tight in a frown. "how are you feeling?"

obviously she felt like shit, but he'd rather hear it in her own words.