Seaside Moors Broken Lungs

The skyline above the horizon had yet to brighten, and even hovering what seemed like only a hair's breadth above the line of ocean in the distance the stars still twinkled. It was not long before dawn and the sun's approach had already set the distant mountains crimson with a tinge of rouge. With the mist hanging above the ground and the gentle, saline breeze causing the timothy to sway back and forth, the moorlands were still in a lullaby state when Chacal quietly moved from the warmth of her mother's side to sit just outside the den's entrance. 

It was quieter now; with Erzulie having given her older siblings more freedom to roam, and Chacal found herself developing a curiosity for the space and freedom they now tasted- but as an obedient child, one who feared repercussion, she remained where she was. The youngest of all of them, the smallest, and the quietest. Most days, she hardly made an impression on those around her, but this didn't mean she got less than what she needed. She would accept silence and solitude as much as she gave both to those she loved most. So in the withering dark of twilight, she sat and waited to watch the light creep across the sky to warm the back of her dark ears.