Lost Creek Hollow Island of memories we'll leave them where they lie

most of the insult to sionnach's pride had worn off, but that was also because she didn't have a mirror -- she had no idea how disfigured she looked, like some numpty troll doll boiled and then chucked in a microwave. for the most part, she was quiet as she skulked around the den. her siblings were out being watched by a parent, and ever since her own escape-fiasco, the den had turned into fort alcatraz with double-guard duty.

like any child she was fine alone, but when an adult came she had to show them how miserable she was. as she heard gannet's steps come through the threshold, sionnach rolled onto her belly and placed a limp paw over her face, a keening wail of very-well-fabricated misery escaping her tiny frame. obviously, this poor girl was in so much pain, the poor angelic thing.