Firefly Ravine oh, mother: tell me more. . .

through his tears, he could have pretended it was mummy. he almost did. if she hadn't spoken, he might have buried himself within her pelt, ignoring the foreign smell, the wrong brown tint to her fur. but her voice was so completely unlike his mother's that it brought him stumbling upright, blinking and backing away, ebony pelt bristling with mistrust and anxiety.

not alone, he retorted, tail lashing. except i am. i'm all alone. he had lana and ziggy, still, and daddy, but they were in the willows. not here. and mummy. . .

a fresh wave of sobs began to bloom, breaking down his bravado bit by bit. not alone, cam repeated, although this time, it was through sniffles, not hisses, that he delivered the sentiment. he plopped back down on his behind, crying senselessly, wishing he were anywhere else but here, in this moment. what a terrible, awful moment to be trapped in.

eventually, he fled from the woman and made his way back home, where he'd stay hidden in the shadows for a long while.