Hideaway Strath The sun caught in her raven hair Is blazing in me out of all control
you ain't seen nothing like me yet
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Ooc — Sonia
Botanist
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#1
 



Once upon a time Isley Kali had assumed she had her life figured out. Then came Teaghlaigh, and Palisander, and life had seemed right - but things of course never really go as planned and Palisander's death and her consequential quest for blood to pay for that loss had taken more from her than she had ever anticipated. It had taken her sense of self, her very identity, the ways that she understood her life. Isley Kali had become Hemlock Kali - a name of death, not life, not vitality. She had made a life for herself among her wolves again, carrying Teaghlaigh's banner as proudly as it's founder did - in her humble opinion - and she had made a family for herself in the children she raised and the relationships that she cultivated. 

Ran was not Roarke. Her gentle soul was not made for the world and Hemlock had known this. It was easy to see in the awkward gait and the uneasy look to her - the healer would never know her true age but it was easy to see she should not have made it long. She had not made it long enough. Unaware of the horrid truth behind Ran's death the woman had locked herself away for a bit, refusing everyone even the children and Lotte and Arturo. She needed a few days, some solitude, and she needed to focus. She had not had enough time with the child to grow attached other than to the concept of the small grey cub. She might have grown to be a smart woman, to use her brains and overcome her disfigurement - but she would never have that chance. Not now. 

Early in the morning Hemlock rose with a feeling she hadn't encountered before. 

It prickled her spine, made her uneasy, made her pant even in the pre-dawn light with a sensation that would not relent. She itched without means to scratch, her jaws worked restlessly. It was with a muted horror that the realization came upon her and the only thing that Hemlock could think of was to call for @Lotte and Lotte alone. It was to the dark haired woman that her thoughts fled and that her hope for comfort - for some sort of relief - rested in. It had not even been considered to call for Arturo, or to ward herself from the other males of the pack. She might have been small, but she was not afraid of them. Her place in the pack as the highest female did not matter right then, rational thoughts were gone

She just wanted Lotte.