Wheeling Gull Isle heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams

others are welcome to join at any time :)

One of them was making noise—one of the two girls, the one who, when cleaned up, appeared to not merely be dark, but instead adorned in crimson. It reminded her of the halfway point between the dark ruddy pelt of her daughter Sakhmet, and the flame-touched fur of her old friend Reed.

Hello, little one, she whispered, drawing her tongue over the tiny charcoal head. She still smelled so fresh; it was amazing, given the bloodied, violent nature of her birth, how pure she was in every way.

But of course she was—she had no fault in this world. Whatever bad things had brought Niamh to the island, whatever horrors Mou had inflicted upon the body to bring the pups out, whatever came next. . .this small girl was not at fault. Pure, innocent, clean.

It was, perhaps, the greatest reason for her love of children: that they were without sin. They were helpless and needy, but to give herself in service to them and allow Jaes to watch over them was an honor beyond words.

Maegi smiled, muzzle still pressed against the pup. You are perfect, she breathed, stirring the down-fine fur there.