WE'RE PROBABLY GONNA DIE / injured

[deimos]

Flow and ebb. The tide told an ever living story, a grab and go, a push and a reaction. The tide, these days, gave her both soothing noises, a lover, and problems. The direwolf, she was reminded of him every day, every waking moment she could think of. Her leg, it was a struggle to walk. It was painful, a limb, a battle to drag herself from her tucked away nest that she slept in now, but it was worth it. Especially in the times of the tide drawing back away, instead of drowning her, dragging something away from her.

The roar caused her ears to flatten. Her eyes turned, staring at the door for a moment. She knew that voice. She did, and she didn't want to. She pushed out of bed, limping from the darkened room. The Tanglewooder started from her home, paws touching the ground, sand pushing inbetween her pawpads. She grumbled to herself, but once she came upon the scene, she didn't complain about the sand. In fact, she straight forgot about it, starting to hurry up dragging herself and the limp leg. Roxie, who she met at the border, standing over Goldie.

And Goldie, on the ground, presented like an angel, splayed out with her head propped up by the tree. And when she saw Roxie's casted glances around, she held her breath. What was she looking for? Sam put the pedal to the metal now, hurrying up in her steps and finally coming to Goldie's other side. "What happened?" She asked breathlessly, pressing her nose in against Goldie's chest, then turning her head, desperately trying to find the flow and ebb of Goldie's heartbeat.

"SPEECH"

♡♡♡
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