Moonspear Pluto has been declared imaginary

The question that presented itself in response to her own did little to ease the troubled mind of the young Ostrega. Truthfully, she could not recall when she last saw her own brother—truly saw him, and engaged with him as they used to do as pups. “No, not... it isn’t often I see him,” she stated, leaving out the why; Yama herself hardly understood why, in actuality, knowing their shared tragedy should have pushed her closer to him. But instead she dragged herself away, hid in seclusion, and strained any bonds that were once there. “But I’m happy he’s okay,” she added, ever the worry wart. Perhaps she would seek him out, eventually, when she felt herself able to face him.

However faint, there was still a trace of a tail wag when he continued to speak of her brother; a defender and teacher of the mountain, she couldn’t help but to be proud of his accomplishments. He was most similar to mama and papa, she decided, although she hadn’t the time to remark on that before an offer was made.

“I—I don’t know about that...” was her initial response, ears slowly flattening themselves. “I could try to spar”—saying it herself was even more nerve-wracking—“but... okay.” Maybe this could be another way to connect with the memories of her parents, by doing something they both excelled at.