Dragoncrest Cliffs than the war-chariots of the lydians or

nose lifts, hearing Erzulie's call. she rises from whatever activity she's engrossed herself in; hunting, patrolling, sparring, it doesn't matter. whatever takes her mind off what she's left behind. she trots toward the summons, chin lifted in inquiry.

but if she thinks this will further separate her from the past, she's wrong. she sees the pups and falters, falling back. 

she has nothing to offer. nothing to say.

Avicus stares at the newcomers, then turns away, abashed. she doesn't leave, but she stays at the periphery, not wanting to disturb the scene—

of a mother, and her young.

it should be herself alongside Astara.

she stares down at the ground, at her paws, feeling inadequate.