she looks him over and is none too surprised by the famished way he all but leaps into feeding on the carcass she drops to her paws. he lunges, moving half off the bed of the rather enlarged badger set and onto the food with enough panache that she no longer feared for his being at death’s door. if he could be so vibrant over food, then clearly he was better off now than he had been for the past few days. she watches him eat and while his face does seem less than chipper, he does not vomit (for which she is selfishly glad).
the feathers are amusing as he cleans himself and she takes to nudging the bird aside with a twinge in her gut that said she was hungry as well. it was not hers to eat, however, and with so little food to be scrounged up, she needed to reserve what she could for his better recovery. she explained to im his circumstances, then, when he seemed most liable to hear what she had to say outside his own thoughts -- and his snort was not unnoticed as she explained that she had taken him from shore to this height. she did not say how long the trek had taken, but do it she did and her ears twist to either side at the sound of disbelief for a moment.
“I am Ferox, last born son of Heyel and Zeivah. I don't know how you managed to get me here but I do have to thank you, for the food and the herbs, I do not think I will be able to manage anymore for awhile, so you should probably finish the bird, Leviathan of Glorall.”
it was the most of his voice she had heard and while it’s tone was unpleasant, the tenor and pitch was. it was a strange thing to find dismay in the demeanor of a thing while relishing the sound - but she found herself settling herself onto her belly to agree with his assessment as his face had begun to smooth itself out of bellyaching and into something more neutral. she is more wary than he was, eyes fixed on him in sharp wolfishness as she shifted herself from his way so he might leave the den, proceeding to eat while he was gone. she ripped up and out whatever was left to be eaten, precious little offal or meat left by the time he had returned, the feathers without gore put onto his bed and his water replenished with snow for cooler water.
she does not see his grin, nor would she have considered the purpose of it, but when he is at last settled back into his place, he asks a question for which she only has a quizzical look to her face in response. “Not many have spoken of Tesseract having a new mate. I heard you howling to him earlier, have you taken the place of his sister?” he asks and she cannot quite figure out what precisely he meant by taking her place. “I do not know this sister… and I am not his mate. We are friends and I miss him...” she offers incredulously, “though i hardly see the reason that you would ask such personal questions of a stranger.”
she lays in the mouth of the den, looking over him at last before the light would fail them and details might be hard to come by. “i will find you herbs for pain in the morning… you will ache when the storm rolls in from over diveen and i know how aches fan tempers we cannot afford until spring.” she says, teal eyes regarding him with a prickly light. “as for my howling, you are welcome to listen because nothing i call is private, but i do not mean to discuss it with you after.” and with that short end to the conversation, she curls in on herself and tucks her nose beneath her tail.
THE LAST DAUGHTER OF MIROVIS
female | 9 years | 37 inches | 91 pounds
velite of glorall | fond of tesseract
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