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Thread takes place outside Tianlong's borders, backdated to 6/9/2026

Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.
3-3-3 OC

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Speech Emotional Actions Thoughts

A few days had passed since the litter's birth.

Bao had watched Haochen constantly during that time, waiting for the inevitable.

The runt struggled to nurse. Struggled to keep warm. Struggled simply to exist. While her siblings grew stronger with each passing day, Haochen remained painfully small, her tiny body seeming one difficult breath away from giving up entirely.

Bao had convinced herself it was only a matter of time.

Nature could be cruel.

She knew that better than most.

The morning she left the den, the mountains were shrouded in mist. Haochen hung limply from her jaws, too weak to fuss over being carried. The pup's heartbeat was faint against Bao's tongue.

Alive.

For now.

She traveled beyond Tianlong's borders before stopping in a patch of tall grass nestled between stones and wildflowers. It was quiet there. Sheltered enough that the elements wouldn't take the pup immediately.

Bao lowered Haochen to the ground.

The little wolf blinked up at her with sleepy yellow eyes.

No fear.

No confusion.

Just trust.

The sight made something twist painfully in Bao's chest.

For a moment she hesitated.

Then she stepped back.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Haochen made a tiny sound and tried to wobble after her, but her legs gave out almost immediately.

Bao looked away.

If she stayed any longer, she knew she'd take the pup back home.

So she turned and left.

The scent of the runt grew fainter behind her with every step.

Soon it disappeared entirely.

By nightfall, Bao told herself Haochen would be gone.

A mercy.

A kinder fate than whatever life awaited a pup so weak.

The lie sat heavy in her chest as she returned to Tianlong.

And far behind her, abandoned beyond the mountain's borders, Haochen remained curled where she'd been left.

Still breathing.

Still alive.

She who knows no bounds, but is confined to her own limits
3-0-3 OC

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Speech Emotional Actions Thoughts

Everything was cold.

The warmth of the den was gone.

The familiar scent that had surrounded Haochen since birth was growing fainter and fainter with every passing moment. She didn't understand why. She didn't understand where it had gone.

Only that it was leaving.

The tiny pup remained where she'd been set down, legs tucked beneath her trembling body. The grass around her was tall, brushing against her sides whenever the wind stirred.

A small whine escaped her. Weak, Questioning.

Haochen blinked slowly as the shape of her mother disappeared into the mist.

She didn't know what abandonment was. Didn't know what being left behind meant.

She only knew she was alone. The realization settled uneasily in her tiny chest.

With a soft grunt, she pushed herself upright.

She stumbled. Collapsed into the grass.

For a moment she simply lay there, breathing hard from the effort.

The world felt so large.

Too large.

The scents were unfamiliar. The sounds were unfamiliar. Nothing smelled like home.

Nothing smelled like her mother.

A tiny cry left her throat.

Then another.

Calling.

Waiting.

Certain that if she called enough, Bao would return.

The answer never came.

Only the rustle of grass and the distant whisper of wind through the mountains.

Eventually Haochen stopped calling. Exhaustion won. Her head lowered onto her paws.

The little runt curled in on herself, trying to hold onto what little warmth remained.

Sleep tugged at her.

Heavy. Comforting.

The kind of sleep she'd spent most of her short life drifting in and out of.

Her breaths slowed. Her eyes slipped shut. She looked fragile enough to vanish with the next breeze, Yet beneath her tiny ribs, her heart continued to beat.

Steady. Persistent. Stubborn. Alive. Even if nobody expected her to be.

If the pups were to be born among the dunes, they would have to start the journey back soon. The late stages of pregnancy are beginning to wear heavy on Häti though and it worries her near constantly whether this is a manageable venture; she reminds herself that it's normal, slowing step and aching totality. It doesn't lessen concern. However, Benji does not say much in regards to it, either. She knows her companion enough to not question the desire to continue traveling, knows this is the nature of Häti's people—of their people—but she makes use of the pull she has to garner more breaks than she supposes Häti would allow herself.

Mountains swathed in rich foliage was a startling contrast to the dry plains and vacant deserts they'd frequented. Benji imagines there's a fair amount of medicine within, carefully selective as she'll have to be, but it's a tedious task worth taking on when Häti's in such need of relief. "Here, love," she says, gesturing toward the cover of a dense alcove of bushes. " Solda's getting fussy, maybe you can settle while he nurses." Benji knows this, of course, due to the tattered furs she often carries upon her back and within which the small boy would sometimes be crudely tucked so that they may rest their jaws of carrying.

"It's fairly lush here, I'll go see if there's any plants that might be of use," she's careful in shedding the furs then, depositing them near Häti. "I'll be quick."

Benji bumps her forehead to the other's cheek and then she's off, humidity cloistering, she's methodical in pulling at leaves and prying at clusters of flowers. If it appears beneficial, she pursues it. When white petals catch her attention, she investigates. Great head pushing through undergrowth, grasses break underfoot. She stops.

All small and still lay a dual-toned creature. There is an instant where she is certain she's found something dead - discarded, but bitter is the relief when it twitches. Alive. Alive!

Benji does not wait to learn context, does not search for it, nor does she want it; all she sees is a child too still. She dips low to scoop the pup into her jaws, scans the area once, and quickly absconds the medicinal venture. "Love!" she calls out, muffled. "Häti!"

The arrival is inglorious as she spares no elaboration, only crowding close to her companion and carefully setting the pup down before copper eyes. "I found her all hidden away, she didn't even cry," she explains, uncertain now what to do with a child in this state. "She will be ours now? Tuksha'at."

She who knows no bounds, but is confined to her own limits
3-0-3 OC

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Speech Emotional Actions Thoughts

Cold. That was the first thing Haochen knew.

Cold grass beneath her belly. Cold air ruffling through her thin fur. Cold where warmth should have been. She'd cried until her throat hurt.

Then she'd grown too tired to cry anymore. Curled among the flowers, the tiny pup drifted in and out of sleep. Every now and then she would lift her head, searching for a scent she could no longer find. Mother. Milk. Home.

Nothing came.

Only unfamiliar smells.

One of them drew closer.

Heavy paws crushed grass nearby.

Haochen stirred weakly.

Her eyes blinked open as far as they could, just as something large pushed through the undergrowth.

The pup froze.

She was too young to know fear properly. Too young to understand danger. All she knew was that this wasn't the scent she'd been searching for.

Warm, Strange, Kind.

The figure lowered, Before Haochen could make sense of it, she felt herself lifted from the ground, A startled squeak escaped her.

Her legs kicked weakly against empty air before exhaustion stole the effort from them. The stranger carried her, She smelled different from anyone Haochen had ever known.

Not Mother. Not her siblings. Not home.

Yet there was warmth. Warm enough that Haochen's eyes began to droop again.

Voices drifted around her when she was finally set down. Muffled.

Gentle. The pup blinked up at unfamiliar faces. Another scent. Another warmth.

And somewhere nearby, the scent of milk.

Her nose twitched immediately.

Instinct stirred. Without thinking, Haochen dragged herself forward a few inches on shaking legs before collapsing onto her belly again.

A tiny whine escaped her.

Not frightened. Not demanding.

Just tired. So very tired.

Still, her tail gave the faintest twitch against the ground.

Alive. Still stubbornly alive, And though Haochen didn't know it yet, she had just found the family that would choose her.

The child was small enough to take the change in routine easily. Travelling was rough on the small boy, but his belly was full and so was his heart. Eyes and ears still firmly shut, he was content to snuggle into anything he was placed on, today being the one who smelt of saltwater and sand. Despite not being the one who fed him, Solda buried into her and promptly fell asleep, content for a short while until his stomach begun to rumble once again.

Roused, he began to fuss, small, plaintive whines bubbling up from his tiny throat, shaky head wobbling as he started to seek the one who smelt of sap, and milk. Being the first-adopted, he was indulged, and soon enough, he was placed before his other mother. Cushioned by the skins he'd been previously swaddled in, he immediately settled, mouth full of milk, free to wriggle about as he pleased. He feels a familiar weight be placed tenderly along his back, and he begins to doze again, as if being awake for a few minutes and screaming some was simply too much for his tiny body to handle.

He can hear the way his mother calls for the other, now, and he whines softly in protest as he is carefully moved, wriggling. What could possibly be more important than him? He feels more than hears her pawsteps heading away, and he is left alone for the first time since he was found. Forgive him if he acts a little spoilt, because he is.

Solda cries openly, now, confused. Where are his mothers? Why did they leave him?