Heavy and crashing, her eyelids slid sleepily over her pale eyes. The sun was warmth and it sat on her dark fur like bark on a tree. The moment was cozy and lovable, but something was missing.
Her mother had not returned.
She felt a hole in her time in the dark cave. Each step into exploring was only a setback, it was only an unanswered dark corner or spike staring blandly at her. It was not warm, it was not safe, it did not look at her with a love she could not understand.
And with the hot flashes of a dying sun and another dying day, warmth and love had not returned to her. She had not licked her head, she had not said her name, she had not spoken her siblings names, she had not answered.
What was her name?
Where were her siblings?
Who were these strangers?
Azalea did not want to fight, or even put up a fight.
With her rump pressed into the cave floor, she blinked slowly as the setting sun left her vision darker than it had before, colder than it had before.
Dec 30, 2017 01:49 PM
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