Redhawk Caldera a blemish on your fragile little psyche

Blueberry, Maegi whispered, and with a roll of her eyes, the young woman roused. What. The response was sulky, dull. Her vibrant little girl, crushed by the world so soon. She hated to see it.

She touched her muzzle to her daughter's temple. Let's find @Vesper, she said softly. As usual, the mention of her sister perked Blueberry up, and she followed with a little more light in her eyes than before. They trotted along a bit before she howled, the younger wolf joining her, their voices weaving together in a searching duet for the other.

They were what was left. She cared not about what blood ran through Vesper's veins; the girl was hers, and Maegi would always claim her so.

The two waited patiently in the middle of a quiet grove, not speaking, enjoying—or, perhaps, anguishing?—in the silence between them.

Waiting for Vesper.

Maegi had words for each of them, but she hadn't quite made up her mind if it would be wise to spill them.