“I…uhm.. I just.. smelled the prey and..” Senna muttered a little lamely, searching for a response to Skunkboy’s inquisition. She didn’t have one. The bark had been thoughtless, and it had been doubly thoughtless for her to try to assign some meaning to it once she caught up with these two. Maybe if she could just think a little more clearly, she could come up with something better to say.
She refocused on the boy with the mismatched eyes when he introduced himself and his brother. The girl blinked in astonishment and then grinned a delirious sort of smile. “That is the awesomest pack name ever.”
Maybe they were bonding, because Clint asked if she was hungry. Her smile widened, and she gave a confirming wave of her tail. “Always!” It came out with a small giggle. He must have known how ridiculous his question was… even back when she had a pack and the caches were full, she was still always hungry. She was told it was part of being an almost-yearling. These boys were her age; no doubt they were going through the same kind of thing.
Whatever bonding she and Clint were doing, Stark the Skunkboy clearly wasn’t feeling it. He addressed Clint’s kind intentions with vitriol in his tone—speaking as if Senna wasn’t even there, no less—and Senna’s jaw dropped. What had happened to this kid to make him this way? To make him disapprove of helping another kid, who was obviously in more need than either of them had ever had the misfortune of experiencing?
“I’m a person!” Senna cried, panting, voice distressed. “And I’m right here!” Stark’s implication that Clint shouldn’t help her (and speaking over her as if they were two adults talking about baby) had wounded her on a deep level that she didn’t even quite understand. Against her will, Senna felt tears of desperation creeping into the corners of her eyes. She blinked rapidly.
“I.. I was born in a pack! With a mom, and brothers, and sisters!” She wasn’t sure exactly where she was going with this train of thought, but maybe if Stark could see that she was just like them, an actual person, and not just some.. rogue, he would concede that maybe she deserved to live.
That was it, wasn’t it? Senna was starving. Clint’s offer of food might even be the difference between life and death for her, and Stark’s cold disapproval felt the same as if he had said, “This girl doesn’t deserve to live.” Well, who made him judge and jury? Senna edged toward Clint as she fell silent; it was now taking her full concentration not to burst into childish tears. Her shakes became more violent.
Jul 31, 2017 09:25 AM — Post #11
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[ Edited: Jul 31, 2017 04:04 PM by Senna ]