10/12/2025, 7:35 PM
pup was sick then, a thin stream of stomach acid that still held remnants of green and slicks of clay from where he had tried to feed himself.
hunger had become a constant thudding along the back of his head, inside his mouth where water also drenched. slowly the boy swallowed, a harsh cold chilling his scoured throat, resting as if it were stones inside him.
only faintly was pup aware that the other's gait was different than how sister had walked, how sister had climbed. the sound of sekka’s heart was steady and worried. rain had soaked the last of pup's body heat away and he shivered almost convulsively as he was comforted.
the boy grasped for what was familiar; wolf, dust, rain, teeth, voice.
too young for primal recollection – the life of one so young was a series of instinctual action and this was no change. but the cyclical nature of pup’s continued struggle was teaching the boy a wretched harshness before his psyche had formed.
little paws clutched in twitching fear at sekka's arm. but when his rescuer made to climb again, pup was ready; soaked, limp, shuddering, utterly silent. a cry was in his throat
crying wailing above sister’s running legs
he counted without words; he connected himself to the heartbeat of not-oba who carried him, to the running blood, to the flared nostrils, the adjustment of pupil, pup seeking a womb where there was none offered and he must make do with a sort of despair that was quickly becoming its own sense.
hunger had become a constant thudding along the back of his head, inside his mouth where water also drenched. slowly the boy swallowed, a harsh cold chilling his scoured throat, resting as if it were stones inside him.
only faintly was pup aware that the other's gait was different than how sister had walked, how sister had climbed. the sound of sekka’s heart was steady and worried. rain had soaked the last of pup's body heat away and he shivered almost convulsively as he was comforted.
the boy grasped for what was familiar; wolf, dust, rain, teeth, voice.
too young for primal recollection – the life of one so young was a series of instinctual action and this was no change. but the cyclical nature of pup’s continued struggle was teaching the boy a wretched harshness before his psyche had formed.
little paws clutched in twitching fear at sekka's arm. but when his rescuer made to climb again, pup was ready; soaked, limp, shuddering, utterly silent. a cry was in his throat
crying wailing above sister’s running legs
he counted without words; he connected himself to the heartbeat of not-oba who carried him, to the running blood, to the flared nostrils, the adjustment of pupil, pup seeking a womb where there was none offered and he must make do with a sort of despair that was quickly becoming its own sense.
