Happy
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Post by Auburn on Feb 2, 2019 17:58:55 GMT
{PEBBLE, FIELDCLAN KIT}
Jelly
Pebble was bored. She didn't want to stay in this den for any longer. She wanted to explore like she usually did, but she knew her mother Dew was around and probably wouldn't approve. The little gray kit had many things surging in her mind. She had a question. Pebble really missed her father Hound that she never got to know, and wondered if he was even alive. Dew seemed to be in a good mood, in Pebble's opinion, so maybe Hound was alive? Pebble scrambled over to where Dew was and sat, looking up at her. " Mama, is Papa even alive?" Pebble asked.
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24
Adventurous
Most Played: Stag
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Post by Jelly on Feb 3, 2019 1:08:59 GMT
DEW The black and silver vixen had been attempting to sleep. It had evaded her for many moons now. It came and went in waves, as did the depression that seemed to sneak up on her. Though for the most part, Dew had grown to accept the circumstances that were her life. Her mate gone, though never forgotten...and her kit...the only surviving one. But she adored her, in a sense that never would have been possible had the circumstances not been this way. In some shape or form, it was almost better that things had happened in this fashion. At least with these set parameters, Pebble was the only one who had the majority of her attention.
Her ears caught the sound of movement, little paws headed her way. If there was one thing that kept her on her paws it was her daughter. Sure enough as she let one eye slip open she spotted the fuzzy grey kit headed her way. A small motherly smile slipped onto her maw as the kit neared. But the words that met her were ones she often grew tired of hearing. Hound could be alive. But it had been so long. And the chances were...slim. Taking her tail and slowly wrapping it around the little fox she nuzzled her softly.
"That my dear, is a great question. And sadly one I don't have an answer for. Somewhere out there he is alive...though whether it's in this world or with The Council I am not sure." Her voice was soft, soothing and as comforting as she could make it. The poor kit had endured more than many and she was only four moons. But Dew would do her best to have it shape her into a strong vixen, and not let it be her downfall.
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