Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

With feigned concern, Wake watched her tremulous posture until it crumpled, offering the flightless bird a sympathetic look as she tried to save face. His gaze traced the raised hairs along her spine, then fell upon the smile she had hung with great effort to mask her discomfort. This was no tiny viper, but a pitiable dove.

No matter. Wake was flexible.

Kirain, he repeated softly in that low, low voice of his, warm as steam. Have you eaten? Wake slid down to his belly, physically acquiescing to her anxiety even if he did not verbally call attention to it. I would like to share blood with you, if you are not too full.

With a large forepaw, he dragged the raccoon carcass to his chest and pinched open its still-tender belly with a scalpel’s precision. He lapped up a single mouthful of the innards before rolling it gently in her direction as a tentative offer. And without caring for her actual answer, he scooted forward to nudge the meal more than halfway towards her, before wriggling backwards again to his original distance.