Moonspear from a black widow's reckoning, your fortuitous spine

The majority of Osiris' wounds laid beneath his flesh and bones; it was challenging to navigate these new, cynical feelings. Not only was he plagued by negativities, but migraines as well—a byproduct of the trauma to his head. Feeling more alone than ever, he isolated himself and spoke only out of necessity. 

It was mid-morning, and a warm cannel of sunshine swept through the living area. It stirred Osiris from his slumber, and against the light, he blinked slowly against the light's sudden presence. Lingering in bed, as he slowly woke, he heard Lyra's cooing from beyond the den's entryway. Quietly, he whuffed in reply to assure her that he was alright. Taking his time, Osiris slowly pushed himself onto all fours and shook any stray bedding from his pelt before heading out. 

The sunshine was even stronger outside, and Osiris winced at its intensity as he exited. Then, once he was somewhat adjusted, he moved to bump his snout against Lyra's chin in greeting as he mumbled, "Mornin'"