A Piece of My Heart Left Behind

Pura was the first to arrive. He liked responding to calls. It was easy - work out which direction it was coming from, and go. Find the source before the last note faded. He was less thrilled about the prospect of socializing with the caller, but the look on Hawkeye's face suggested that this was no casual get-together. She was sad. Blacktail Deer Plateau spent a lot of time being sad.

The months had bleached Pura's fur a silvery grey, and the once barely visible freckles now dominated his ruff and face. He was growing into quite a handsome boy, though his personality was not keeping pace with his looks. Rather than rush to comfort the very obviously distressed woman as a kind, polite young man ought to do, he stopped a few feet away, staring blankly at her scarred face. Pura kept to himself, and this was the first time he had really taken the time to look at the damage Hawkeye had sustained. "Someone hurt you," he contributed, cocking his silvery head to one side.