King Elk Forest don't pretend

asmoses stills as she holds him firm; stronger than him. he squeezes his eyes shut, ears tapering back against his skull at her warning growl. he lets out a low whimper, belly roiling with hunger; unaware that he would have to be fed in small bits until his stomach got used to food else he would eat until he threw up. as it was, outpowered, injured and weak, asmoses does the only thing he can do: obey. he hates it; but the fight is a weak echoing ghost of what it once was. the fire has been dashed to nothing more than simmering, glowing embers of ash.

she tells him that she won’t hurt him — he doesn’t believe her even with the tone that warms her voice. she gives her name and announces that she’s taking him back with her. back where? he doesn’t have the energy to ask. doesn’t want to ask. it wasn’t like he had a choice. she had him overpowered. he tenses, holding his breath until his lungs ache as she smooths down the fur between his ears.

it reminds him of his amma. if not for the woman’s golden legs on either side of him and the strange smells she carried upon her pelage he could’ve, in that moment, been fooled into thinking she was his amma. she gives him room and he shakily rises to his paws, placated too easily by the promise of food.