Blackfeather Woods Let my eyes be the rhythm

maegi had gone. mou had gone, presumably to follow.
relmyna had grown worn with prayer and worry, and now a cry rose, and blood upon the air.
the mother had not answered.
no, no, she had delivered flicker back unto the shadows of blackfeather, and crimson bled into the atmosphere, though no wounds were readily apparent. the feather tangled behind her ear swung forward at her grim jawline, and relmyna breathed. what has happened? for she did not know. the stench of redhawks had not followed flicker home, and at least for that there was some relief.
seafoam eyes filled with worry, she was silent, waiting for the gamma to answer.