Bonesplinter Ravine who thought she was a nightingale

✹☾❂

 

Bloom into blossoms… her mind subconsciously repeated his words, hoping that they held some true meaning for her. It would be so nice if there was a reason for loss, wouldn’t it? That it wasn’t just random happenings; coincidences of the saddest kind? Eleuthera had her doubts, especially now, after revisiting Hushed Willows and finding a new family settled there. Calling her home, their home. She had her doubts…

In truth, the lilac sprite would have felt fortunate for knowing the truth of his voice. Having now heard more of his words, she had begun to suspect that there was something more to this man — more reason for him to be in this place than she, who was here based upon a wandering, wanton interest. All wolves had their story, the woman supposed and shrugged inwardly. In her travels across these contiguous lands, she had met many a wolf and each was more strange than the next. It didn’t make them less worthy of her attention; instead, it made them far more interesting. Eleuthera never shied away from a challenge.

The woman gave a small, indignant snort as she prepared to refute one small part of his assertion — most, she reluctantly agreed, was spot-on. Things had to happen, all living things must perish, but to what larger scheme? “Are we better for it?” she mused softly, glancing at her toes, then back up at his looming, golden figure in the far-off distance. She walked her forelegs off to the left to turn sidelong, her lavender eyes watching him from the corner, to see if he’d come closer if she silently invited him. 

“Look,”  she beckoned towards the skull that had captured her attention just one or two minutes prior; the one that danced with life, and thought all those thoughts. “It used to be someone.”  and, honestly, she didn’t even know what this creature once was. It had decayed to such a point that it was likely unrecognizable even by that creature’s loved ones. What a sad, sad end. “Now…”  she grit her teeth, “it’s nothing.”