Dragoncrest Cliffs Fresh out of an icky gooey womb

Sobo visibly brightened when he found the dark brown pelt of his mother, hastening forward with excited tippy-taps of his paws on the river rocks. He beamed up into her scarred face and placed the daffodil down at her feet, wiggling with the strength of his whipping tail.

Hi mami, he greeted breathlessly, all sunny smiles and gratitude for her time. I brought you this, it maked me think of your eyes! Small and wilty though it was, it was the colour to which Sobo referred.

Around those yellow eyes were the marks of many past conflicts. Like Haunt, Rosalyn was missing part of her ear. Her son never noticed before, but now he traced the contours of each scar with eyes blooming yellow in the middle. Abruptly, he asked, wha happened to you, mami? Does it hurt? She'd always worn these scars — they did not frighten him — but he was learning about injuries, now, and had to wonder.