Aelora hadn't the thought to consider herself much more than just another creation to curse the world. Her fogged thoughts and memories long past kept her content to the now, perhaps too ignorant to the threats that could have come to bring her into danger. Was this a plain sight like other vixens of her age blatantly in disregard of the caution males should impose on others? Perhaps it was simply lacking the wisdom that drove it in, the recollections enough to keep her safe. There was, however, a nagging conscience that crept in here and there, a faded thought that deemed a steady consideration.
She could recall here and there small offerings, things that leak through the tight clutch of her broken mind. She recalled her mother, a blank slate of thought tracing those times where caressed to her bosom she felt both safe and some pang of regret and fear. Post knowledge told her that there was horror in that faded future to follow her growth from pup to adult, though it was never recalled and only suited frustration. Small words whispered to her,
my Lore, my only, a somber statement meant to define her. As he spoke she merely nodded lazily, barely taking motion in the action before halting. She doubted others would come, She rarely drew attention even if her call had broken through every valley that made these lands. She was a shadow, a thing to be ignored, she considered that her savior in the very least. She watched him carefully as he stretched and found rest upon his stomach, a smooth action that brought about some calm and clarity in his intentions. Bracing her hindquarters she dropped into a long stretching bow, joints crackling slightly bringing the release of tension as she groaned then came to rest on her belly just as he did. tipping slightly she draped her legs out, resting on her left side, skull propped just to keep focus on him and only to continue their conversation.
Of course. My mother had given me the name Aelora, though very few call me that. Just call me Lore, and my story is too hazy to recall and relay. You, though, still have your name to give and your story to tell. So tell it.
A grin passing her jaws she wondered just what lay in his past that was worth telling or hearing, if anything at all.
...Call me Aelora...