Seaside Moors Seeing spiders, I'm told they never lie

wc:280

When her mother stop, she felt the fur at the base of her skull prickle slightly, and she could see those feet she'd been watching as they turned her mother in an about-face, and now she found herself staring at a set of toes belonging to her mother's front feet. Her claws were sand-worn, but long and hooked still in shape. And she diped her head down when she was asked to look up, before she slowly tilted her muzzle up, and gradually slid her gaze up toward her mother. For some reason, she felt almost as though she was being punished- but she was simply being asked to perform an easy task for her mother. Either way, she was too sensitive at the moment to handle it well.

She missed Valravn. And the more time that passed, the less of a chance there was, she thought, that he would return safe and sound. For all she knew, he'd perhaps joined up with a band of wolves that were nomadic, leading him further and further away. The tone in her mother's voice wasn't stern, but she was fixated on the fact that Valravn should have been, at least partially, her responsibility. What kind of a shadow was she, if she could be shirked so easily? Her lip trembled, and her gaze dropped. The sorrow in her chest made her cheeks flush warm with heat, and she felt her vision swirl with moisture that sprouted from her lower eyelids. Her ears fell back against her head, and while she tried to bring her gaze to meet her mother's again, she couldn't. She sat down, and sniffled softly. She missed her brother.