Dragoncrest Cliffs Mind my wicked words and tipsy topsy slurs

erzulie had just shoved a pile of debris from the den's furthest corners when sobo returned with a wavering voice and a call for her. the woman wiped a dusty fore-ankle across her forehead and closed the distance between she and the little prince at once.
she searched sobo for what had brought him back from play, and found his swollen paw. "kote ou tap jwe?" she asked, wanting to avoid it for the rest of them.
she smoothed her son's ears with a tuck of her muzzle.
the water ran close to the edge of their den. the obsidian walked a short ways, eventually using her muzzle to cut a furrow in the cool earth of its bank, closest to the water.
she returned to sobo with her nose and its bridge encrusted, and rubbed her muzzle sidelong against his affected paw so that its majority fell piled upon his flesh.
there were many things that could strike and kill. she did not think it was many of those, for sobo would not be with her now if so. "èske ou santi souf kout?" the obsidian asked all the same, watching her son closely to see if his eyes had dilated or his belly soured.