Otter Creek It always runs back but it's never quite the same

At the woman's condolence—and she took it as such, even if the apology was unspoken—she dipped her head in silent acceptance, eyes skimming the ground for a moment before returning to the orange gaze before her. More information was requested, and Maegi's mouth twisted slightly as she thought, carefully sorting through her muddled mind for proper descriptions.

Scylla is a dark gray girl, nearly black, she began, sadness gripping her chest as she thought of her nieces (both of them gone, if not necessarily missing), with some white speckling along her body. Falling Star is a pale boy with black muzzle and paws. She assumed Moonshine's situation had been handled by her mother one way or another and left the girl out, for now.

Another sigh, a brief exhale through flared nostrils. They're both around six moons, now, Maegi remarked, and lamented all the time that had been lost and would never be able to be recaptured. Gone. Just gone.