disquiet

In moments Caiaphas emerged from the hollowed den, her neck inverted and steps ginger as she procured forth a heavy tow of seaweed and clay in her pitch jaws. She stepped towards the pup and quite suddenly unloaded her burden at the small creature's feet -- and with a flickering motion of her tail stepped backwards to give both the ashen male and his charge space in which to detail the wound with clay and weed.

"Use the kelp to wrap her paw, and carry her home before her parents come to find you. If you carry her, they cannot detect her with you. This time, I cannot extend my welcome." The crone-like creature uttered this quite suddenly, her fierce gaze resting on the black whelp. She did not elaborate any further -- though her decision was driven largely by the suspicion this pup would cause uproar and discord among her own two captive youths. She did not wish to complicate their upbringing -- not when both had been showing such great promise. It was an edict she was unwilling to rescind, yet she was certain the large male would understand.

She would wait then for the two to shuffle about and reposition the crude kelp -- and she would watch, in silence, as the two departed. It would be some time before she saw Kierkegaard again, she assumed -- and she was surprised by the pang of loneliness that suddenly struck her.