If she had thought the birth of her children had been hard, it didn’t take long for her to discover that parenting was that much harder. She adored the family that she had built with Rhaegal, unintended as it may have originally been, and her heart had been so full in the beginning as she watched their children grow and play. It had only been when their small golden girl had fallen sick so suddenly that Bastille was to learn the heartbreaking fear that only a mother could know. Oh what she wouldn’t do to take the sickness from her daughter and bear it herself, it was the worst pain a parent could know to have to watch their child suffer and their daughter at such a young age as well.

Still, Bastille was determined to do everything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her child. No doubt she annoyed the healers with her constant questions and prodding about the strange and sudden disease, and while Swifttalon and Eldrax were confused as to why they could not be with their sister she and Rhaegal at least had been cleared. Something about the disease not being passable to those over two years of age? She had never heard of sickness having such a distinction before, but it gave her hope. If her strong girl could just make it through this she would be safe.

The golden caped woman had duties that called for her time, tending to her other children and spending time with Rhaegal of which she could never get enough, but she always made time to go and see her daughter. She climbed the familiar path to the healers den, poking her nose around the corner she approached the cave in which had no doubt become more like a prison to the poor girl trapped inside. One day, she kept telling herself, one day she would be set free on the mountain side once more.

Stepping inside she only just caught a glimpse of Melee’s fragile body collapsing sideways onto the furs that lined the entire den. An anxious whine leapt from her throat as she rushed over towards her. The healers had said she was improving, if only slightly, but seeing her daughter’s body now she wasn’t so sure. Hastily she dropped the gift she had brought with her to the side and hurried to nose and lick at Melee’s small body, checking that she hadn’t hurt anything when she had fallen. It was unlikely considering the thick furs, but Bastille would be nervous for the girl the rest of her life. She ended with a soft lick planted between the girls ears before pulling back to gaze at her daughter with pale, icy eyes. “Hello dear,” she smiled down at her, circling once to lay down behind her daughter and cocoon her inside of lanky, brindled legs, “how are you feeling today?” It seemed a pointless question, considering the scene she had walked into, but she hoped at least that the girl might say she was feeling better.