Herbalists' Cache Protect the coven

Cetseni churns beside her sister, another voice to the symphony of growing displeasure, demanding blood and sacrifice (milk and warm fur) to be given immediately. She mouthed at the furs of her siblings, small, weak jaws unable to cannibalize as she wished. Already she desired to prove right the rumours that haunted the prints of muradoii hunters.
She wobbles after her sister, lids fighting to open so that milky blue eyes could've surveilled the racetrack, the competition, but the bite of the cold is enough to usher them shut again.
There is a tether between daughter and mother, invisible, but unwavering, able to pierce through even the endless dark of blind eyes, the third daughter follows this lifeline, this magic woven into the blood they shared, and finds a place beside the moon-kissed fur of her sister.