Sun Mote Copse The righteous keep moving forward

@Anatha @Elohim @Bastian

Warning: Slight gore

After the offering, Molech made their pleasure clear. The weather improved and temperatures rose. It was still winter, but much less dire. In retrospect it felt almost warm outside. Asherah knew that her children and herself had pleased The Many Armed God. As she had dipped her head at the shrine she had spoken to her God, saying that if it was Molech's will to lift the cold they would leave this place and seek a new home. She asked for guidance, to lead her to the right place, and to tell her when to leave.

The change in weather was answer enough, and she had set out to leave one last offering in front of the shrine. Just before dawn, a hare met it's end in her jaws. But she did not rip, or feast, nor pull the bones from it's body. Instead she carried it, whole except for the wound on it's spine, to the Shrine. She tore it's belly open, dipped her nose into the warmth within and painted the skulls that adorned the rock. She paid special attention to the skull her children had offered, marking it with detail. When all were sufficient, she pressed her paws into the deflated body and pressed her own imprint onto the rock. She held her paws against the rock, blood dripping from her gore stained feet, and bow her head to pray a final time at the Shrine to her God.

When she returned to the den, her face and paws were clean. Along the way she sent a howl up to alert Bastian that she wished to talk. There was no demand in it, no authority, though a ring of finality could be heard. She wouldn't leave without offering the male a place with them, or at least trying to.  Whatever his flaws, he had stayed with them even after the breaking. Should he not show here, however, she would not linger long. Her voice was his chance to say goodbye or start a new life, she offered nothing else and would waste no more time here.

The sun began to send it's first rays over the horizon, and Asherah sat tall in the light that washed over her. This was a new beginning, and this time she would need no one else to save her. She had Molech, and she had herself. She needed no other.

He awoke to find his mother gone, but was not surprised. She often left before they rose, and returned as they awoke or lingered outside the den. He pad over to the entrance and peered into the cold with narrowed eyes, but did not see his mother. He was not afraid though. She always came back, and she reassured him that Moleh watched them and kept them safe.

He wasn't sure who Moleh was, really, but he liked the name. He often repeat it to himself during play, or would rhyme it with other words that he made up. With Mother gone now, and Nattah still asleep, he turned his attentions to the hole he was still digging. He had it nearly up to his chest now, and he had plans to tunnel deep into the earth. Perhaps he would come out on top of a mountain, or look up through a river to see the fish from underneath. Mother would be so pleased if he could show her a better way to fish.

So he dug with earnest, tail wagged slowly in pleasure. "Moleh, Moleh, Moleh," He sang quietly. It was not long before he, covered in dirt, heard the call of his mother outside. He raised his head, a smile lighting his face. "Mama!" He cried, rushing over to the entrance. "Nattah, mama back! Les get breffas." He yipped into the darkness, plunging into the cold without further ado. He leap frogged to his mother, barking excitedly.