The Sunspire dear child (i've been dying to reach you)

Wisp wasn't roused until Breccan's loud bark snapped her to consciousness; she was a deep sleeper despite all her seeming sensitivities and easily blocked out Rannoch's chewing and Deshyr's request. Her brother's raucous voice, on the other hand, woke her instantly. Her eyes popped open, squinting against the light, and she flattened her dark gold ears back on her head with a disgruntled noise. "Shhhh," she hissed, voice hardly above a whisper.

She tried to press her paws to the sides of her face to ground herself, and that was when she remembered the splint. Every night she went to sleep hoping it would just be gone the next day, and every morning she woke to find it wasn't. The restriction frustrated Wisp, and when she became frustrated enough, she cried. There had been many tears since she broke her leg and most of them weren't because of the pain. She frowned at the sticks holding her ankle in place, then laboriously tore her attention away to watch Breccan and Deshyr interact with father. She didn't get the allure of the stick and didn't join them in vying for it; she was selective about her toys. Her new favourite was a hoof from the horse, which was presently under her belly.

Her gaze danced elusively among them, never resting on one for more than a couple of seconds, and darting away immediately if it seemed like they would meet her gaze. Yawning, the gold pup stretched, whining as her broken limb ached, and rose awkwardly up to her feet to complete her rigid morning ritual of shaking out her fur, grooming her shoulders and toes, and going out to pee.