private little drummer boy ;; ivory

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@ivoryflight.

Graced with nothing but pure anxiety and worry, Hyacinth hadn't thought that Ivoryflight would die- but something inside of her willed her to check on the femme anyways. She pushes her way through browning grass, spotting the molly licking at a fresh scar on her shoulder. She frowns then, examining the wounds from a distance. Such a pretty pelt didn't deserve to be adorned in gnarly scars, even if they were minimal at best. She hesitantly takes a step forward, then quickly makes her way over to the molly, holding a blackbird in her jaws.

"How are you faring, my dear?" Hyacinth asks softly, voice low with hidden worry. She hadn't seen her kits around lately, but surely Moonshadow was sheltering them from the hawks for their own safety. She sets the blackbird down at the molly's paws, before sliding in beside her to lay down, careful not to touch any of the wounds. If Ivoryflight were to get an infection because of her, she wouldn't know what to do with herself.