Blackfeather Woods primordial state of chaos

he drew forth, his step wary, his expression questioning. the listener stood placidly beneath his inquisition, offering a low croon of reassurance. he too had not spoken since arriving; she worried greatly he was not able. what manner of evil had befallen this child, still so young and irreparably damaged by the world? a melonii she truly was not; relmyna was without the coolheaded and serpentine logic of the family into which she had been bound by motherhood.
and it was her maternal heart that drew up her lips; she encouraged him with a low chuff to follow her. there was a cache not far, and she was struck by the sudden desire to feed the boy. perhaps if she could establish herself as a beacon of safety, he might reveal something in regard to himself. seafoam gaze rested gently on mou as she waited to see if he would follow, plume flagging lightly at her heels.