Phantom Hollow the cover of the wings of grasshoppers

dated back to couple days after puppy borth

Normally cool, calm, and collected, Megara is, these days, fraught with concern. They left the weald to claim Meldresi's forest, only to find it occupied by another set of Melonii. So these Melonii are now adrift, and furthermore, Nyx's time came whilst away from home. One disaster after another.

So here they hunker, on the run, their movement stalled by tiny mouths to feed. And here she sits, trapped in her own quiet anxieties.

She is near enough to the den to hear the puppies' cries, and Nyx's gentle murmurings to them. That, at least, is music to her ears. But will they be strong enough to withstand a journey home? They cannot leave the weald unprotected for long; what if they come back to find it occupied? The crone sucks in a deep breath, folding her paws one atop the other, curled in the brush.

A silent, slightly-trembling shadow—and the only thing giving her away is her indigo gaze fixed unblinkingly ahead.