04-12-2021, 11:02 PM
The title is lyrics from here, would definitely recommend a listen!: The Garden of Everything
Dawn whispers a distant goodbye to her daughter, leaving the child with her two new sons. Twins, they were - both bathed in white with brown dashed across their noses. There isn't pain anymore, not really. Just a muted sense of wrong that bleeds through her silver coat and into the ground below her fur. She doesn't smell the blood anymore, and she also doesn't smell the disgusting scent of birth. It's nice on her nose, but one distinct thing she does feel and smell is snow, and the cold. Didn't winter just end? The thought stops her breathing for a moment, and Dawn opens green eyes to a wintery landscape. It's beautiful, but it isn't where she was before. It isn't her den where she gave birth to the twins, and it definitely wasn't the spot coated in blood in which she said goodbye to Sigrid. She stands all while scraping at the ground with a paw.
The woman wanted more time to talk to the girl. In all truth, Dawn knew she didn't raise her daughter as well as she could have. She wasn't good with kids, and most likely never would be. Her pack taught her how to raise children, and it was a grueling and bloody process. Even Dawn didn't give Sigrid that kind of treatment. Their spars were never that dangerous. Still, not showing enough love to a child would do things to them, and Dawn wouldn't be there to right her mistakes. Instead, she was.... Somewhere. It was more soothing than it ought to be, but there was no one here that would be out for her. No one she had bad blood with, and it was relaxing.
She missed her kids.
The twins would be in good paws, good enough that Dawn could trust Sigrid to keep her brothers alive. With help of the pack nearby... Everything would be fine. Dawn would tell herself that - if she thought it then there was nothing there to think about. If she kept thinking everything would be fine, then nothing bad could happen, right? Instead of worrying about that right now, Dawn gazes at the area around her. It is beautiful, she thinks again. Dawn feels grateful that her pelt is naturally fluffy, and the biting cold doesn't reach her skin. Her breath comes in puffs of white in front of her nose, and Dawn begins to walk. If this is where her afterlife was, Dawn was contempt with that. Even more so without her family there to torment her.
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