Lion Head Mesa a prayer for rain

the girl spoke of sisters. of a mother. a pang of regret flooded satsu as she was reminded of what she had lost between her fallen han and these wilds; things not thought of in a lifetime, people she chose to forget.
a father. her brothers. your mother, she all but gasped, feeling somehow weak. she paced a few steps and then sank to her haunches, feeling relief as the weight slipped from her paws.
my mother used to... sing me songs. tell me stories. i always thought they were silly. i used to tell her to stop; roll my eyes, refuse to listen. is that the kind of mother satsu would become? she had no stories she could tell. she had no songs memorized, not really. bits and pieces scattered through her memory.
satsu sighed. she shook her head and tried to ignore the discomfort in her belly.