Luneshale Pass but i'm the furthest thing from choir boys & altars

leto had borne children, and her attitude soured with each joyful update.

instead of attending to her packmate, which she ought to, fiamma instead paced among the seedlings—growing slowly but steadily, with better weather. 

in lieu of her own pups, these were her offspring. if she dwelt too long upon it, she found the situation pathetic—

thus, she did not dwell long.

she was a mother. a mother of plants, sure. . .but a mother, nonetheless.

one sprout in particular was thriving, and today, she lay nearby and watched it. not as if she could see it grow in real time, but she was still fascinated by the progress it had made even in the last few days. a bit of rain had come, and that, paired with their careful irrigation efforts, was yielding results.

and she still had yet to taste the green,

but she knew its success was their success.

its life was their life.