The world was dark, cool, and damp most days—but most days were, unfortunately, spent in the dark, cool, and damp den. It wasn’t the best ambiance to lift a girl’s mood, but…what could Corona do? If Mother told them to stay, even when the sun was shining so warm and welcoming right outside their den, they stayed. It was the way of things, and the way of things was exceedingly boring—and too quiet, what with everyone so careful about not waking Mother.
Corona lay flat on her side, an inky patch within the darkness of their home, pale blue eyes staring out into the shadowy nothing. There was a dirt wall there somewhere, but she had been laying like this for what seemed like forever, and the shadows had long since ceased to have any sort of definition with the way her vision lazily lost its focus. In a moment of silent frustration, the little girl took a deep breath, letting it out in a forceful huff. With a mild concern, she lifted her head to look back at her mother to make sure the sound hadn’t disturbed her slumber. Seeing no movement from Mother besides the slow, rhythmic breathing of sleep, the girl’s head sank back down to the cool earth, and her mind began to wander off once more.
It was then that Corona heard the careful shuffling within the den, her brother’s hushed paws barely making a sound, but any sound at all was something that stood out in a silence so thick. Arching her head back along the ground, Corona stretched until she caught sight of Prometheus, the ear she currently wasn’t laying on perking forward in interest. Her brother glanced back her way, and the girl’s eyes narrowed curiously, wondering if he really dared what she thought he did.
Sure enough, the boy began climbing the slope toward the cascade of light at the den’s entrance. He wasn’t alone, either. Saros wandered over to join Prometheus in the light, a pleading gaze cast back Corona’s way. For a moment, the girl’s face scrunched up; why on Earth, in heaven, or hell would she ever wake up Mother? Even if she had any desire to tattle, that would be a big mistake. It was just not worth the commotion, and it wasn’t like she hated her brothers, so… There was really no point in it.
But…like hell were they going to go outside without her.
Corona rolled herself to her paws, pausing a moment as she fought off the urge to shake free from dirt and debris. Such a thing would be far too noisy for a stealth mission, and, in a way, that’s exactly what Eclipse’s children were up to. Hushed, hurried paws carried the girl slinking up behind Saros with a hissing,
"Shhh!”
Were they trying to wake Mother? Prometheus with his excitement and Saros with his wondering response. They were so careful getting outside, but they were just going to open their traps the moment they were in the sunlight. And then Miss Aster’s kid—if she took a moment, she could recall the name Aspis, as Corona seemed to have a good memory for things like putting names to faces she’d met—with his dumb, deep, raspy drawl…
Corona pushed her way past her much larger brothers and jogged her way up to Aspis, whispering in warning, “Not here!” pushing forcefully against his shoulder with her head to usher him some ways off where they could all speak without worrying about incurring Eclipse’s waking wrath.