Arrow Lake drowner

light pp of isi given ❤️ keke

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It’d been some time since she’d heard the General’s call, but the Pionier still heeded it all the same ... well, soon. Only a moment. Then Isilmë wrenched her back into focus, and the silver resumed her current conquest: embedding her fangs that much deeper into the root they tussled over.

So Aure gave a wild toss of her head, kneaded further at the loam, dug her claws in, and growled at her fearsome daughter to best her.

...But that calling ... it only reinforced her mulishness for the day. All it took was an uneasy thought, and just like that, the play session ceased. With a huff in whichever of her tongues, Aurëwen set her end of the battered root down, tranquil— and then she pounced, all crooning, mock-sinister laughter.

She nuzzled her bright girl promptly onto her bum, wedged her snout onto her chest, and delivered a series of tickles in the form of gnaws. ”Ai na bakon, pissy Isi,” Aure toothed, and with a grin and invasive kiss farewell, she rose and scurried from the play-glen with harried, prancing strides — for fear of her baby girl’s revenge.

By the time she reached the site of congregation, her springy ribs quivered without breath and bleary eyes found the face of Stigmata. Ears strained in a rare chance to hear what he had to say, and after they idled for more of the pack to convene, the silver remained mute.

It’d be better to keep her own thoughts in her mind for now, until others had said their piece and could be regarded with consideration. And while she favored to linger with the folk, Aurëwen situated herself nearer to the basilisk and Kapitën all the same; half-sight always argent, always observant.