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[P]  Coming of Age

Crow Apr 13 2020, 1:10 AM
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It was a rare moment that Crow afforded herself time to rest when it was not necessary. Her mind was a buzz of noise and energy, brows twitching at every passing thought. It was difficult to relax, at least for her, and always had been. Life had been nothing but one shit-show after another, having lived through the Blackening, the Conversions, the Culling, and the shaping of a new Gilead. Factions rose and fell, unfathomable alliances forged and threatened the division that everyone had, for many years, sought to maintain. The throne was taken up by another maddened Forseign, and she was not keen on suffering at the hands of one yet again. This was a strange time, certainly, and the old beast had been forced to overcome her own prejudices in order to thrive. Though once hunted by them, the eximius found themselves in much the same place as the dire. It was something she had to acknowledge, as her stubbornness and anger would keep her trapped in the past forever. The only way to victory was to evolve.

Still, she was getting older, though the ache in her bones was more an annoyance than an actual discomfort. The stress of current events and being sure to stay abreast of any and all changes took its toll. She was exhausted, her mind driving her to the point of fatigue amidst the tentative standstill that grips the land. With her belly full and blood drying on her muzzle, the dire had traveled to the falls, finding a spot near the roaring water to curl up and rest her head.

Yet, her green eyes persistently stayed open, watching her surroundings with a distant interest. Had she chosen a quieter spot, the shout of her thoughts would keep her awake. Thankfully, the falls were a static white noise, lulling her senses and picking at her attention, droning in the background just soothingly enough to tempt her eyelids to droop. A long, frilled ear twitches as they finally close, broad shoulders rising and falling as her breaths grow even. Her body recedes into the beginnings of a nap, which causes her to be far too sluggish to react to the lean body that pounces from the underbrush and lands square on her back.

She snaps awake in an instant, rearing with a snarl that quiets in the next second when she twists to face her attacker. Atym'shyr is still half-flopped across her ribs, his mismatched eyes and tall, multi sets of ears flat at the sight of her large teeth. He rises with the long, drawn out breath she takes that releases into a sigh, shuffling to roll back onto her belly and rest her chin on her wide paws.

"You at least have your timing down," She grumbles, voice rough, "But I'm not in the mood to play, Atym'shyr. Have you been practicing your stalking?" Green eyes flick to the side, catching just a bit of him in her periphery. Gods above, this child was lucky he belonged to Ayita or she might have torn one of his ears for antics like this. Then again, she could not expect him to know the things she had done, the damage she was able to inflict in space of a blink. That knowledge would never be his, if she had anything to say about it. She never had pups of her own, but stepping in to raise him in Ayita's stead had created a dangerous soft spot in her defenses. It was about as useful as a tumor, in her opinion, yet being hard on the child didn't always work. Her patience never wore thin with him, though today he was really toeing the line.

"And did you make sure the pups were fed?" She asks, dark brow raising despite him not being able to see it. She had given him the busy work of hunting for orphaned cubs when the adults were away, if only to free up their time and give him something to do.