I was having so much fun on this trip. It was only my second winter of existence but I was fast coming to love the cold season for it's forced closeness of family. Summer and fall had seen me training with my mentor, Hadrian, and I had begun to learn quite a bit. Muscle had begun to build in my small figure so that I could carry more and move swifter if need be. I would always be little Samia, as Sir Hadrian called me, but I found no bother to such a suggestion. In fact, I rather clung to the fact, held it to my breast as a compliment to forever be grateful for. Time spent with my family was the best time, romping with my little sisters and playing sweetly with my older siblings. Mother and father were the glue that bound us together in the beginning but I thought we had all grown a familial attachment to one another, a fondness, and I felt a pang when my older siblings had disappeared to find a place to slumber.

So I had tiptoed into the den with Alexander and my fresh smelling sisters, moving so that I lay on the opposite side of the girls and they were sandwiched between my heat and Alexander's and I slept with my head pressed against Feather's side. She had fast become my closest confidante and little muse, a shadow that I enjoyed having. Slumber was easy to come when I was so content, a sigh leaving my lips before I slipped away. But it is not contentment that sees me woken - it is the voice of Seamus, telling us to wake up, to gather ourselves, and there is something so infinitely sad about him that I immediately perk up, right ear still remaining flopped down, having never righted itself.

He tells Alexander to run, to gather my other siblings, and I feel a wave of fear hit me. It is unreasonable, I think, for I do not know what is wrong, but still I follow him and herd the children after him while keeping my face vacuous. It is only as I see figures laying on some needles that I begin to grow alarmed, my breath picking up in a panicked manner. I hesitate to run to the figure of my father and my mother because they look so peaceful... but there is a strangeness to them. It hits me about the same time that Seamus speaks and I gasp, a loud, broken thing, my vibrant eyes suddenly glowing with tears, seeming bright beneath the moonlight. "Momma... Papa..." the words are pitiful out of my mouth, scared like I had been scared as a pup. As the girls move towards the figures I am swift with them, moving to stand like a shadow as they lay around our parents and I press my nose into my mothers sleeping face and nudge it with a whimper. I follow it with the same movement to my father, tears dripping from my black nose and sparkling on their fur.

Alexander sings and I don't realize it, but I lift my head and sing. It is softer than my brothers, gentler, but no less sad. The cries of my sisters make my voice crack a few times and I gather my wits as I shuffle to the side, allowing family members time to grieve over our family, but I stare at them in a way that reveals my adoration and my loss.