Dragoncrest Cliffs they forget that i am the daughter of two kings, not one

Once, she’d through without Wildfire, she’d move on and everything would be the same. She’d occupy her free time into something else, into Drageda and the others, but after all that has happened, there’s still a weird emptiness she’s had a hard time explaining (not that she’s told anyone) but something heavy in her chest that no healer is going to be able to fix. As much as she’s divvied up her time into other things, there’s still not enough to cover up the hole left by her family.

If she’d never allowed the space in the first place, it wouldn’t be like this. She’s certain of it. She’d been taught aversion to such actions and now that she’s allowed it, she isn’t sure she can close it back up for good.

Antumbra stretches, pulling from a lazy morning in the depths of Hougeda. Most mornings she’s up-and-at-em but something keeps her rooted in her spot. A waft of blood catches up to her and she jerks to attention, locating it toward the entrance and dangling by the jaws of Blodreina. Her brows knit together and she shifts, stands, and shakes out her fur.

“Hei,” she calls once she’s settled.