Hushed Willows As the smile fell from your face, I fell with it

Everything was grand and hunky-dory in Prialuxland, even though everything in the pack itself was royally fucked up. Word of Larkspur's suicide attempt had no doubt made its way to the DeMonte den, but Prialux was simply too young to even comprehend the situation. She might have picked up on the morose mood that settled over the entire tribe if she could sense it from Amara, but her mother was permanently distant, so Prialux would never be able to tell the difference if there was one.

She sat outside the den, near enough to be called back should Amara decide to pay attention to her but far enough that the den's mouth was hidden from her view. Her head was tilted back so far on her shoulders that her snout made a 90 degree angle with the ground, and her eyes bugged wide as a squirrel skittered along on a branch above her. "Hi!" chirruped Prialux, but when the squirrel didn't respond to her, she pouted and flopped down on her belly.

Hi was the only word she could say, and she was really good at it, but it didn't work on other animals quite the way it worked on other wolves. Feeling dejected, the girl squished her toes in the mud and sighed heavily.