As I sit down quietly with a respectful distance from the Demon I am shocked to see a smile appear along her muzzle. I am not quite sure how I am to respond to this physical show of delight. My dark violet eyes simply stare back at her, the ice-blue specks, a gift from my Father. That is the only thing I received from him. That and his fur and weight and height. I will be much bigger than Mother, but where her grey marks lie on her ebony pelt reflects in my own coat, but stained a color that is much more suitable for a demon. There is not a trace of white on me. There is no weakness in me. This I know for I have always checked myself, just in case, just in case I see it. Should I see a trace of white upon me I would have pulled the furs out, yanked them until there was only bloody skin, for I do not wish to wear such a shameful color. I know there are others within our pack that are all white that are given respect, but I want no reason for anyone to view me as Chael’s daughter. I am not sure if they know about my Mother though…she hasn’t spoken her name to anyone- not once, and not even to me. Though I hope to bring her some sort of happiness…hopefully.

As the Demon silently steps to her paws my entire lean frame goes rigid. I am being inspected…I think. If I am to be inspected then I must show that I am a healthy specimen. My crimson trimmed ears stand on end atop my ebony skull, the suns shines brightly upon my diamond-shaped crimson mark settled in-between my forehead perfectly. I stare straight ahead trying not to look at her, out of respect of course, but a little bit with fear. I know my place isn’t to be held in a similar light, but I am pleased that she is taking interest in me. As her muzzle gets near my own, I dare to shift my stellar eyes into her own, not cowering or flinching away. As her tongue sticks out and gently goes along my muzzle I simply stare in shock. What does this mean? I have no idea. I’ve never been licked before. Am I supposed to lick back? I mean I never heard of this custom before. As my mind starts to flutter with knowing what I am and am not supposed to do in return I simply hold my eyes to her own. Maybe she will tell me what I am to do. Her voice smooth as honey enwraps and hushes my loud mind as I simply look to her captivated and comforted all the same.

“Mother called me Raven, ma'am.”

My response is quick, but my voice still hoarse. I do not speak much. No one hardly speaks to me. Even though I have been exercising my vocal cords along my travels it is a muscle that I still need to exercise. As I tilt my head to the side, my muzzle accidentally brushes along hers. My eyes widen as I move my head back and lower it with shame and embarrassment. I only bring my head up when I do not feel the physical punishment for touching her. I remember she was held highly by others of our kind, but I was so very young. My mind grows fuzzy when I think about my early days so I speak honestly and pray she is not angered.

“But I am afraid I do not know yours…but I remember seeing you around before you disappeared…are you…okay?”