gold dust

Wynter was quick to introduce herself and the other who had remained silent thus far. Leucothoë did not know she physically could not speak and really thought nothing of the silence. Many at Themiscrya were the silent sort, who only spoke when specifically regarded. To Leucothoë, there was nothing wrong with this. But she had nothing directly to say to Phantom, and knew that the sisters at home hated wasting their breath with pointless dither. Even in her youth they did not humor her, which caused Leucothoë to simply keep quiet herself. The shame of being blatantly ignored had burned as a youth, who valued her pride so very much.

She committed their names to memory. And as Wynter asked her question, Leucothoë nodded. Yes. I came with my mother and my sisters. One biological, one not; but it made no difference to those of Themiscrya, who were all sisters in faith. As Wynter commented on the night, she finds herself nodding again, her eyes falling to the wolf who brushed her muzzle. Are you in pain? The sad look on her features concerned Leucothoë, who did not connect that she brushed her muzzle because she was conveying to Leucothoë she could not speak. The only wolf she could play charades with beautifully was her own twin... and while she was quite smart for one so young, and perceptive, she had never met a wolf who could say nothing before.