Noctisardor Bypass shela

Her mother's frequent absences were little more than a fact of life to Goldfinch by now. Still, some part of her felt forever waiting; breath held, locked in place, watchful eyes turned toward the horizon at every distant rustling of the undergrowth. Each morning she searched for her mother among the yawning faces of her family. Each night she listened for those familiar footsteps.

And on this morning there were berries and honey. Flowers. No sign of her grey-cloaked mother. Goldfinch pulled her flower closer, paw curling over it possessively. She watched Heda even more closely. Something was off, she realized in the moment before Heda spoke. Something was wrong. The fur along Goldfinch's spine lifted almost imperceptibly — but her familiar felt the shift. It fluttered up into the air, abandoning its perch between her shoulder blades, and let out a sharp distressed call.

Goldfinch went very still as Heda spoke. Her toes flexed and tightened, crushing the flower into the dirt. The bird shrieked somewhere above and darted off into the woods. Abruptly, stiffly, Goldfinch stood, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Wordlessly she turned, following her familiar into the shelter of the trees.