The grove was quiet. It was always quiet. Quiet was… worrying. She hadn’t seen Rabanastre or Ryd or Faithful or anyone that wasn’t her family since Altair came back.
Rota wasn’t a wolf prone to worry, at least not excessively. Sometimes she entertained not-so-nice thoughts, but never for long. There were other things that needed to be done. Except, she just couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that this—all this—was just the meadow all over again. It was her, Altair and Dad, alone in a territory that wasn’t their own, going about their days as if it were.
Marking borders, checking the cache, going out for short hunting trips around the lake that more often than not ended in failure when it was just her.
It was exhausting, but Rota was out at the borders anyway, absentmindedly moving through the brush. It was clear her heart wasn’t into it, but she was still on patrol. She still had to be alert on trouble. Trouble, like the scent of a unfamiliar female.
Her ears pricked forward intently, and Rota raised her tail to be level with her spine as she moved toward the source of the smell.
Nov 22, 2017 06:59 PM — Post #1
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