Kintla Flatlands My undead mummy and me

Dinnerplate-sized eyes rolled between Blue Willow, Lasher, and Junior as the latter cried out incessantly, wracked by seething pain. Words ensnared her primal wails as red pooled into her inky locks. "Oh my god! It hurts so much. What happened?" the girl howled, an indigo eye watching her mutilated limbs. Though the adults offered some small ministrations of comfort to the boy, a helpless insignificance washed over Valtýr when their attention became infatuated with their own. The pair feverishly tried to comfort the blue-eyed girl though she was wild and restless, face contorted in agony. Incoherent sobs amplified quickly and traveled through the young boy like daggers. He wished to be anywhere but here.

Suddenly, he felt quite small. Like the lynx's attack, there was nothing the boy could do. No where he could go. Valtýr slumped to the ground, hugging the rugged bank for comfort. He missed daddy and mommy... Jokull, Maera, and Larus. Why was he here? When would they come for him? When would this nightmare end.

His eyes shut tight, waiting for the storm to pass. There was no other recourse.