Dragoncrest Cliffs viciously and fatally attacked by an unknown animal at Claire's

Easy gives her a few licks back and she smiles, leaning into it. “Good to know,” she says, quietly. She wonders if Blixen or Rose or Ali would dance with her. Something tells her Artaax wouldn’t. She snorts a little at the thought, pulling away as Easy asks something.

She blinks a few times and looks down at her paws. She hasn’t really talked about her mom, not like this, and she sighs. The rain starts to pick up, pelting their fur with large, icy droplets.

“She…” she starts, unable to really put words to how she remembers. “She was big and strong and she kinda looked like me but darker, bluer, somehow.” She thinks of Roarke and how much he carries her pattern and color. She wishes it had been here. “She had a song for each of us, my littermates. I hea—” she chokes on the word— “I pretend she sings it to me, sometimes, when I really miss her.”