storm's closing in | pitch




Worn and haggard she still feels worn beyond her years. Her pelt having gone ungroomed for days and she also knows that her nephew has been wondering. Been thinking about just what happened to her that night, on the dawn of morning. She hasn't said anything about it. Doesn't want to but the scents on her pelt are telling. Sharp. The wind courses through the pinetops as she makes her way out into the marshlands, shifting her long limbs over moss covered ground. Not too long ago she remembers collecting it, having the foolish thought that she could become something else. Something that helps instead of hurts. That is what Hare had said. Time for her to mend instead of break. But then what about her? Is she supposed to continue to break and break into more pieces for the sake of her clan? Sighing sharply the woman turns her dull gaze up and catches sight of a dark pelt. Familiar and at first she thinks it's her sister. But no it is her newphew, she breathes in and slowly sits down beside that of the pine tree before turning her head away from him.

"What brings you all the way out here?" Her voice is even and cool. She's trying to hide her woes before turning to look at the tom once more. "I meant to ask you if you were okay. Especially after everything and that mongrel who attacked you." She flicks her tail, curls it around herself. She can bury herself deeper if need be. It'll be okay because what she has left of her family is all that matters to her. It's all she has left in this harsh new reality.