Cerulean Cape 濡れた犬

Everything was a blur.

The guards had looked everywhere for them, to dispose of the so called "forsaken son's" kids -- but Yuki would never let them. They would not be picked off like leaves from a vine, they belong to this family too! Yet the Emperor only saw them as prey, competition to his own dirtied, blood-soaked throne. One day, Yuki would make him pay for the blood he'd spilt within his own kin -- and she'd do it for father, too. Whether it was his dying wish or not...

                                         -

Yuki's face was pressed against a mush of wet sand by the time she'd woken up, rather than stone. One might even call the she-wolf lucky that she even opened her eyes, considering the fall was supposed to have killed her. Her brains weren't splayed out for the word to see; good, but something was off. The snowbird must've went down stream in a river somehow.....she didn't recognize her surroundings. Before she could even work up the strength to gather her senses, however, she'd already been coughing up a horrid mixture of what tasted like salt and metal.

The Fujiwara struggled a bit to lift her head and steady herself to her haunches, feeling weighed down by her damp fur and dizzed consciousness. She'd cough again -- this time, into a forpaw. A splotch of blood and saliva revealed itself dribbling into the sands below her. くそっ... the yearling rasped.

Death did not claim her -- Yuki should be thankful for that. Yet the severity of her injuries concerned her much more...