12/24/2024, 7:48 PM
Valeska would be inclined to agree.
If one were to argue numbers and measure genetic breakdown, they were, biologically speaking, six years old here. This was only as a result of the continent's strange and unusual magical properties rendering some wolves' ages less (or more) than they truly were upon arrival - what dictated this, no one could know, but it had certainly affected Valeska and her sister.
Realistically and by the span of time they had been alive, they were seven.
Valeska knew they were seven.
But six, she decided, felt better, and so six they were in this place. After all, she hadn't quite felt the grim onset of arthritis just yet.
And not one* of her offspring had deigned to give her grandchildren yet.
Whereas Harper remained quietly busy, hustling to and fro amid the Respite beneath the cover of darkness (to which she was quite suited), her sibling lay flat upon her back with a thin line of saliva dangling out from the corner of her lip. Periodically a paw would twitch - likely mid-chase in her dream - and she grunted with the effort, chest heaving. Almost - almost - she nipped at its heels -
A gentle melody roused Valeska from her sleep. Smacking her lips, she rolled to her side, puzzling over the sound. Was that Harper? At this hour?
Shuffling out from the den, she wobbled drowsily toward the center of their home as snow crunched lightly beneath her feathered paws.
She blinked, struggling to adjust her eyes.
If one were to argue numbers and measure genetic breakdown, they were, biologically speaking, six years old here. This was only as a result of the continent's strange and unusual magical properties rendering some wolves' ages less (or more) than they truly were upon arrival - what dictated this, no one could know, but it had certainly affected Valeska and her sister.
Realistically and by the span of time they had been alive, they were seven.
Valeska knew they were seven.
But six, she decided, felt better, and so six they were in this place. After all, she hadn't quite felt the grim onset of arthritis just yet.
And not one* of her offspring had deigned to give her grandchildren yet.
Whereas Harper remained quietly busy, hustling to and fro amid the Respite beneath the cover of darkness (to which she was quite suited), her sibling lay flat upon her back with a thin line of saliva dangling out from the corner of her lip. Periodically a paw would twitch - likely mid-chase in her dream - and she grunted with the effort, chest heaving. Almost - almost - she nipped at its heels -
A gentle melody roused Valeska from her sleep. Smacking her lips, she rolled to her side, puzzling over the sound. Was that Harper? At this hour?
Shuffling out from the den, she wobbled drowsily toward the center of their home as snow crunched lightly beneath her feathered paws.
She blinked, struggling to adjust her eyes.
What - what is all of this?she said, incredulous.
It is beautiful, but - but why?
*To knowledge.
![[Image: ValeskaSig.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/ValeskaSig.gif)
