Atlas Falls

There had been darkness for a very long time. Darkness and silence, and the feeling that could only be described as touching two-day-old kitchen grease. It had been that way for a very long time, until the skies cleared and there was more than just darkness.

The silence, too - it seemed - had been broken. Ivory ears flickered with the sounds of the birds overhead and in the distance; the sounds of water trickling nearby. These sounds, all of which were familiar to her, though she had not heard them in what had felt like centuries. Like a distant memory that she was trying (and failing) to remember. She knew, though, based on the scents, that she was in the forest.

Eyelids slowly flickered open as her tiny body uncurled; little legs stretching forward as little toes expanded. Her mouth opened to give a big ol’ yawn as pastel eyes narrowed to adjust to the lighting, as the tips of her paws came to brush against the flowing river. And for a moment, Amata wiggled her toes there, though she would eventually come to get a drink of water. 

And like the current of a river, it felt like her memories and thoughts of the Before had been dropped into the ocean and carried away, and like a thought that had been lost before it had even formed. For a time, she stood and looked into the river, almost as if debating if she wanted to try and leap across. She took a deep inhale and sneezed. 

The action caused Amata to tumble sideways, until she would eventually come to fall upon her rear. Ivory ears fell backwards as she just began to stare off into the distance, as she watched a leaf drift helplessly in the air as it landed in the river, and was floated away. Her ears flickered forward, and Amata approached the river with a new determination as she threw her front paws to the ground and wiggled her bum, barking at the escaping leaf. 

 

No! No, you get back here and fight me! 

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Boy, Grumble felt like she was everywhere these days. She was doing what she usually did, look for food. She was beginning to have a hunger that felt like it could not be quenched. It was often the very thing on her mind. Maybe it always had been and she was just becoming more aware. Somewhere in her head she could hear noises of protests, she was not becoming more aware. Her ignorant shelter, it must be preserved at all costs! Suddenly a new smell entered her nose, smell of wolf, female. Strange for it was close, almost as if it just appeared out of nowhere, vomited out by the earth itself or birth from the forlorn fogs. Boy she was getting more poetic and sophisticated with her mulling! Suddenly a realization dawned on her. It was an unknown smell, meaning this wolf was no Nightwalker. She felt her hackles raise. Intruder? Was she trying to hurt her pack-mates, or worse, steal their food?! Would this be her first kill of another?

Stalking through the fog, as she got closer she could hear the river and the sound of the stranger. No! No, you get back here and fight me!  Was she hurting someone?! Afraid and enraged for her new pack, Grumble suddenly abandoned stealth, bulldozing into the clearing in front of the wolf, a snarl of pure malice filled the air, echoing vibrations into both of them. She almost attacked her, then and there. But she paused in confusion as the stranger was but alone, no one in sight. Had she been talking to herself? Weirdo. Calming down just a little, she was able to observe the stranger. She was a bit small (in the eyes of Grumble), but fit enough. Since she wasn't stealing or hurting someone, Grumble, being the new Nightwalker she was, was unsure if she should kill. Growling again, she tried to loom over the female. "You are in Nightwalker territory! Why would you invade our lands?!" She boomed, trying to understand the situation, it was such an anomaly for Grumble, being one of the wolves who did not understand the mysterious arrivals of Canis.
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Amata had her eyes set on the leaf that was still floating away from her as she grumbled and growled, totally unaware that someone was even looming behind her. Or above her, or whatever. She was a classical babe in the sense that she did not pay attention to surroundings.

She was so focused on that leaf and borking her little head off at it, that she did not even hear the growling. Heck, it was a mystery if she had even heard the female speak at all. After she was done telling off the leaf for abandoning her, Amata turned annd SMACK!

She ran head first right into one of the legs of this woman. This caused her to fall back on her bum for a moment as she glanced up at this growling woman who looked more like a swamp monster than an actual wolf.

Amata screamed, which for a wolf (read: for Amata) was to snarl. A big ol’ snarl right before she lunged forward and chomped on the swamp monster’s leg/foot.

 

“AH MOMSTER!”

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This was not going the way Grumble had planned. The wolf almost seemed to be ignoring her! Feeling agitated at the sass of the intruder, Grumble tried to maker herself look even more intimidating. She would not let this wolf escape now. Even if she started running, Grumble would track her to the ends of the earth at this rate. Suddenly the wolf turned and walked right into one of Grumble leg's. Now that Grumble was thinking about it, this must be a runt or something, cause she could barely feel the wolf run into her legs and yet the impact seemed to have been great.

And then, she lost control. Grumble had not expected what would befall next. Suddenly the wolf growled, foolishly thinking it could take her on, and then it lunged for her, teeth sinking through her foot like tiny needles. With a surprised yelp, Grumble started to try to shake the wolf off her foot. This was not how wolves fought, was she insane?! The fact that it had called her a monster, or something (maybe she was a foreigner), stung a little in a different way as well. It reminded her of all the mean names her birth pack gave her.

Failing to fling off the wolf, Grumble's adrenaline had settled enough for her to look at the situation at a different angle. Maybe this wolf was diseased. Rabies or something? She leaned her face close to the paw that the wolf was now dangling from, studying them with caution. This could be life or death for the pack, she needed dad or someone more experience to have a look at this! With a powerful howl emanating from her maw as her head tilted back, she called for backup.
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Their numbers were rising steadily - and all the while, the Warlord's greed and lust for power did as well. Already he spoke of claiming the lands beyond their borders, how none others would be welcome in their little biome - their little world. Now he was to wait as their empire of nightmares grew, for word to spread and let their imagination and fear drive the weak away and leave the bold for them to solidify their claim against.

As he day (afternoon?) dreamed about the future and what it held for his kind, a call rang out and summoned him. The daylight had not gone and the call interrupted his rest... but he would answer as a dutiful Alpha he was. 

There ain't no rest for the wicked after all, am I rite?. 

Not knowing what was at the end of the call, his pace was quicker than a casual jaunt. Grumble sounded an alarm for aid and he would come to assist the strange woman and whatever she was doing... And what he found was enough to wipe his face clean of any emotion. Wrinkles formed as skin creased along his nose, between the eyes as she saw her with a whelp. Younger than the rest of the yearlings hey had in their mist.

With an impatient stare, saying not a single word - he looked at her and demanded a reason for all this.

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It was very obvious by now that this was going very badly for the swamp creature and very good for Amata. Her mouth of teeny tiny razors had landed upon their mark, only tightening upon the leg as Grumble tried to shake her off. How else was a girl supposed to hang on for dear life?

And then Grumble decided to take a look at her. A real, up close type of look. Amata growled; it was muffed since she had an entire leg in her mouth, but it was a growl nonetheless, as she debated if she should try to attack the face of the monster, too?! Maybe go for one (or both) of the eyes?

So she would do her damndest to try to fling herself into Grumble’s direction, releasing the leg as she tried to do so, and then hopefully coming to chomp those little razors onto the monster’s face, or something.

Oh, and she totally missed like the boss that she was, landing with an oof on her belly, beneath Grumble with a low growl of her own. She would not miss next time. Getting up with the shake of her coat, Amata glared forward to notice that the monster’s mating call had been answered by a mud monster.

Of all things she could have summoned her to aid her in her plight against Amata, it was a monster of mud? Mud? Was that the best she got? She gave a blank expression, though ultimately deciding to mimic his expression as she glared up at the swamp monster.

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Grumble didn't even notice the stranger's attempt of trying to claim her eyes. Only after she finished the howl did she noticed the wolf was on the ground now. How did that happen? Trying to figure out what to do with the wolf now, she thankfully didn't have to think for long. Vengeance appeared, dad was here to save the day. She wasn't expecting the expression he gave, actually, both were giving him the same kinda look. She had expected the larger wolf to be more, um, violent. Immediately shredding the wolf into scraps.

"Father, I have come across this rather strange intruder! I think it is diseased or something. I figured you were smart enough to know what kind of contamination the pack may be threaten with. Just in case, I kept her alive cause I wasn't sure if you could tell how sick she was if she was dead. Seems like her mind is gone, nothing coherent has come from her!" Grumble finished with a big breath, glad to get that out and hoping her reasoning made sense.

She was also secretly hoping for some praise, to be told how smart she was for thinking this through. As if to seem tougher/trying to win brownie points, Grumble put her foot on the other wolf so she couldn't get away. Now she merely looked up at father expectantly, her eyes practically giving away the approval she sought from him.
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If he had the traditional sense of humour and not a sick one with twisted thoughts, anyone else would have laughed at the sight they saw here. A grown adult woman calling for help against a child bitting at her toes, viciously attempting to blind them and missing. And yet, Vengeance was not the type. What he was was pitiful to him.

And Grumble started - with no end in sight to her words as they fell from her lips. Rubies shifted from the woman and onto the child, trying to make sense of what Grumble saw and what he was looking at now. Luckily for Grumble, she was a willing soldier - even now she was proving to do so by catching the whelp even if she was... confused by them.

She believed the child to be sick - he could see nothing wrong with them nor smell any illness that could be transferred from one member to the other as he approached just enough to smell the child better. The man made sure to keep at a safe distance from the snapping needle like teeth, but kept his head low enough to hone in on the child's scent - from here, he looked up at Grumble from beneath furrowed brows. “There is no sickness.” He stated confidently before standing up to his full height, shoulders squared off as he kept his eye on the two.
 
“You cannot understand her because she is a whelp, you caught yourself a child Grumble.” He wasn't quite praising, but his tone left to the imagination that perhaps he was a little proud of her little capture here. “Do you smell any others on her? Parents perhaps?” If they were going to take this one in like the others, they had to be certain she was without guardians to come seeking for her. This one was young, far too young for the others - but perhaps with the puppies soon to come, she would prove to be a useful babysitter before she could be used as a warrior...

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Get a load of this one, wouldja? Going on like Amata was sick or something! Ha! Yet she had not complained too much when Amata’s teeths had found their way into Grumble’s leg. It was her own damn fault for creeping up on Amata and frightening her, with her big swamp monster like ways!

And then to call her part - father? Really, this hunk of mud was her daddy? The mother must have looked like the ugliest thing that walked the earth - to try and sell her off, as this sick, diseased creature that could not speak? What, was she somehow deaf? Amata had clearly called her a monster!

Ooh, boy, Grumble sure did know how to turn Amata’s anger generator on, because Amata found herself growling without even thinking about it. The nerve of this woman! It was, perhaps, in that instance, that Amata made it her sworn goal to make Grumble’s life the most miserable it could be, and thus, began the story of the Terror Sisters.

A paw would soon find itself on Amata’s backside, though, holding her down as if she were some prized possession. Oh no, sweetie, that’s not allowed. Her ears flew backward and Amata lunged herself forward with the snap of her teeth. Snapping at air for dramatic effect, Amata’s goal was to launch herself forward, and then immediately towards Grumble’s throat - which of course, at Amata’s height, would likely land on her chest.

The big guy was, so far, ignored. Unless he tried to assist Grumble in pissing her off, but at least he looked intelligent enough not to be foolish.

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Grumble had no idea what kind of malice was developing towards her from the small ball of fluff. Personally, she would rather not know. She had more important things to focus on, however, like Father's words. She tilted her head, showing visible confusion as a mixed amount of emotions flowed within her. On one hand, she was pretty sure Dad wasn't mad and maybe a bit happy with her dedication. Yay! But his words were hard to understand, getting at the very least that her theory of illness was wrong. She knew this stuff and yet she did not, had not put it together or thought of it.

Having been chased away and separated when she was just able to live without milk, she had no memory of a childhood now. Her earliest memories were of her in the cold dark woods by herself, alone and hungry and the sky hiding at all times of the day. Even when she was able to rejoin her birth pack as a yearling there had been no puppies around or wolves expecting. She knew of parents and siblings as a basic fact. That everyone likely had them. But she did not know why or of the circumstances surrounding the phenomenon. She just saw everyone as wolves. The elders from her pack were called elders from the power they gained through the years. And this was the concept of age that Grumble needed to understand.

Grumble was suddenly scared, she could identify that she was missing something, and showing weakness to Father seemed shameful and frightening. She did not have a good enough understanding of deceit yet to pretend either. Father would know anyways, those blood-stained eyes saw all. As the stranger leapt upon her chest before falling back down with a thump, Grumble merely, almost unconsciously, put her foot back onto the 'child' and then proceeded to lower her face to the pup again to give a sniff. She did not smell of anything.

"...I am afraid I do not understand what you are getting at. She's such a small thing, if she's not sick then I don't understand. Child, whelp, is that just a type of wolf that's small? Aaannnywaaays, parent's aren't here, probably abandoned, but I'm sure we could have taken them on anyways!" She said this all with a delicate touch, except for with the last sentence, trying to save face, to seem strong and ready to defeat any in their way. However, even Grumble's boast was faltering mere seconds after it's display, thus she went back to sniffing and studying the 'child' to hide her face, a habit to slink into ignorance when discomfort is present, to pretend nothing is wrong or bugging her.
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The pup had spirit, a certain fight in her that could not be trained in most. You were either born with the fire, or not - it was as simple as that. As Nightwalkers, they would all burn together in the fire they all held within them. This one needed some taming as she flailed about and bit Grumble with the intent to leave a mark - not quite with the desire to flee either at least from the looks of it.

And it seemed that the woman had a lot to learn still. Confused by the sight of a whelp, she mustn't had been around many while growing up. Well, perhaps they could use that to their advantage here. Without that knowledge of puppies, she didn't seem to have that desire to care and grow soft around them...

With this realization, his annoyance faded as the muscles relaxed along his limbs. Eyeing the two with a cold almost indifferent interest. Like flat coke in a can, still the same ingredients but lacking that life which came with the bubbles. “Then consider her yours to care for.” Just like that, the two would be stuck together. “She is your ward. Train her, feed her, keep her safe, discipline her when necessary, she is one of us now. She must be only a few months old, watch as she grows - you will understand in time.” Let the internal gears in her mind make sense of it all.

After all, she would soon see pups as they would come flooding within Nightwalkers in due time. If he and @Morag had anything to say about it, it would be sooner rather than later. “If you have no other questions, pick her up and take her to your den.” She belonged to them now, to the mist. As Grumble so confidently stated, even if her parents were around, she was on their territory and thus, was now theirs to raise.

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The child had paid very little attention to conversation between adults simply because it was an adult talking and talking was, for the most part, very boring. Amata was, after all, a child who was barely old enough to be off milk, and therefore hadn’t listened to a word spoken. In fact, they might have sounded like Mrs. Donovan at one point or the other.

So while they were distracted, or rather, while Amata amused that they were distracted, Amata did what she does best. Create havoc. She glanced up at the two adults, from one face to the other, then back to her newly assigned slave. Perhaps, if she had been listening, she might have been overjoyed at being stuck with her slave, but alas, she would merely grin and then? And then she would attempt to dominate her slave. By which she would run away, and then come back (she needed the speed) and once she was within range, she'd leap into the air in an attempt to launch herself onto Grumble. If this was successful, she'd position herself between Grumble's ears and then give her best victory howl.

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Grumble still didn't have the guts to look at him until after the first sentence. Her head turned to him as if she suffered from whiplash. And he explained it in a specific detail. The fact that she would care for this wolf now. "Oi-pochemu (why)?" She exclaimed in shock, the little Russian she knew escaping from her jaws as the left side of her brain short-circuit with the information it was presented. Brushing off her exclamation, Father than asked if she had questions. Yes, she had a million. It had never occurred to this apathetic monster that was. The idea of caring for others, putting effort in them for something that had not to do with herself. It seemed ludicrous to her. She had to think about this in the long run, think of trying to impress Father with her guidance with another.

"She must be only a few months old, watch as she grows - you will understand in time.” This sentence kept repeating in her head. She was curious to know what that meant and yet something fragile inside of her did not want to know. Fearing she would have to admit something she acknowledged and yet did not at the same time. The fact that she had not the pleasure to have been raised by another. That the norm was that and thus she was an unwanted anomaly since the get-go. She knew it, brushed it off with how she did to everything else. But in a way she feared of having to swallow these facts and accept them as reality due to this situation. The more she tried to dwell on this, the murkier her mind became, the thoughts hiding in the grooves of her brain, refusing to be brought up.

She had a feeling none of her questions would be good enough to not irritate Father even more and Grumble merely nodded her head. "Understood, thank you...?" The expression of gratitude came out as more unsure than she meant it to be. It was then the strange creature jumped upon her head and howled, the tiny sharp noise causing Grumble to wince due to how close she was to her ears. Showing no sympathy or delicacy, Grumble shook her head so that the small wolf would fall unceremoniously to the ground with a tumble. Albeit Grumble's aggression had now faded due to her Father clearing any suggestions of a threat, it didn't change the fact she felt a little irritated and maybe even jealous. A question suddenly entered her mind. "Father, just one question. She can't speak now, right? What do we call her?" She asked with a tilt of her head, technically having asked two questions.
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Short post is short ;3;

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The little one was surely to be a paw full for Grumble, but maybe the responsibility would help her learn a thing or two as well. That or kill the whelp with a lack of care. But it wasn't theirs anyway, call it a test-child for Grumble and nothing more. At least she had a pack to help her out should shit hit the proverbial fan.

The question of a name came up. Something so basic and barely a thought that would have come to his mind. Honestly, no child would have a name as far as he was concerned until they proved themselves worthy of one. Until they showed they would be around longer than month or two and survive childhood. 
 
“It does not matter. Call her whatever you want if she does not tell you herself.” Was she even old enough to know her own name if given one by her previous guardians? Doesn't matter. With that, he would wander away back to do his rounds around the border. He was certain this would not be the last time he would hear of Grumble and her questions of the puppy, perhaps the next one would be of more substance than just a name.

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Y’know, things would have turned out differently if Grumble had just let Amata do her own thing, but no, the swamp monster had to ruin all her fun. There would be payback, of course, all of which would come to a halt as Grumble shook her coat in an attempt to get Amata off.

How rude. Amata responded, of course, by grabbing onto anything and everything that she could in order to hold on. That being, of course, Grumble’s ear. Which Amata dangled on for quite some time, until - plop - she landed on Grumble’s face and slid down her nose and landed on her ass on the ground below. She took a moment to sit there, glancing up at Grumble with a little whine and tilt of her head, doing her very best to give her cutest looks to her captor-turned-sister.

A ploy? More than likely.

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The tug on her ear from the pup as they tumbled from her head enraged her furiously, if the raise of her hackles didn't give it away. Yet Grumble still managed to nod her head at Father in understanding, eyes trailing him until he vanished like usual out of the area. No name for now it seems. The idea of giving another a name, Grumble had never imagined it. Before she could think anything further, she felt the stare of another boring into her. Looking down, she saw the small wolf giving her a big-eye stare. Those blue eyes...She needed to get it through her head that this was a dumb being that could not form complex emotions or thoughts yet. But yet again, for better or worse, Grumble decided to try to communicate to the runt. Lowering her huge mighty head towards the multi-colored pup, she found herself blowing hot air from her nose onto her. "Listen, you. Don't touch my ears. And don't die. Behave for Father and we'll both get through this!" She grumbled at the tiny creature. What was happening was Grumble was trying to paw-off some of the responsibility onto the pup herself. An excuse in case this all goes sour.
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You never want to expose your weakness to the enemy. It would seem that Grumble did not know these things and therefore, Amata had to teach her. So she would sit there and look up at her with the most innocent look that she could give her in hopes that Grumble would look into her direction in the very least, now that Papa Mud wasn’t around.

She would not have seen the hackles lifting, but she could sense the difference in Grumble. The anger that came from the big one did not stir a fear in Amata, but merely caused the little one to suddenly smile to slowly inch it’s way across her features as her eyes seemed to tingle with excitement.

“Listen, you. Don’t touch my ears. Don’t Die. Behave for Father and we’ll both get through this.” Get through this, as if this was a temporary thing. So Amata would giggle with the blink of her eyes as she stared very hard at Grumble. Perhaps.. Maybe.. Too hard.

“Mm.. No. I don’t so.” Amata said very clearly, very firmly with another series of giggles as she quickly stood and leapt at Grumble’s face, jaws open, with clear intentions of chomping down on her eye - at least it wasn’t her ear, right? She was still following directions.. - and this time, she was sure that she wouldn’t miss.

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Everything happened so fast. As the child spoke, Grumble found herself pausing, somewhat shocked she was able to speak even a little. Well I guess that's why you double check things. Yet all the worries and revelations grew into nothing as the pup stood and leapt, launching onto her right eye with tiny jaws. There was a sharp pain in her eyeball, and then sudden numbness. But the socket itself was seething with a burning pain that was so different than the invasive actions of ear ripping. The pup was tearing into her eye. With a large startled bark that bellowed from her core, Grumble began to try to shake off the assailant who had begun to hook her paws into said eye, the sharp little claws kept latching and tearing through skin, causing a dog-paddle motion from the pup that continued to cut into the sensitive flesh around the eye.

Grumble was not one to express pain well, if her previous adventures with bees didn't hint at it (ears are a different story of course). But the large wolf couldn't help but to make an irrational noise of pain, her body tensing so much that the noise choked a bit in her throat, dying at the end of it's outlet.

Finally after a few shocked moments, she got a paw on top of the pup and teared her off, causing some of her eye to go with the fluff bundle as she landed on the ground with a thud. Blood, she was covered in blood. Grumble could feel the warmth pouring from her eye socket, even trying to open her injured eye did not allow her to see the blood, but she knew it was there, the scent staining the air around her. She found herself wobbling a little, unbalanced on three legs as she tried to use a paw to cover the eye.

The pain had began throbbing now, her conscious becoming narrow, an image flashed in her mind with each throb. That blue eyeball hanging out of her sister's eye socket. The image would not leave, the scene would not leave, the sounds of her sister in pain wouldn't leave. "Let's be best friends forever!" The words of her sister echoing in her head. She isn't dead. Her sister's body unmoving flashed in her mind. She didn't kill her. The swelling of her head was astronomical as her sister bled out. Grumble's breathing was getting faster as she began to hyperventilate. Those damn blue eyes. "I didn't kill her, what do you want from me...I didn't mean.." She found herself snarling not at the pup, but at the air, emptiness. The image of her sister's cold corpse surrounding by others in prayer. She killed her. It was an accident...Grumble was scared of losing her food, scared of starving, but she killed her only friend because she didn't trust her enough to think, to calm down in time. And like that, Grumble felt something inside her snap. It was her ignorance, a large chunk breaking away, exposing raw truth, raw facts. She choked back a sob, feeling tears coming from her left eye, but nothing but blood could be felt in her right eye, was her eye still even there?

And finally she turned her head slowly, in an eerie manner, towards the instigator. "You." She said in a voice that did not sound like her own. A malice so intense it could strip the world bare. She proceed to quickly trap the pup with a paw, and started to press down, slowly, aiming to suffocate. Rage coursing through her veins. Not for the loss of an eye, or the pain. But for taking her ignorance. She stole it along with her eye, stole what kept her alive and sane. "Give it back, give it back-" she kept saying over and over as she continued to suffocate the pup. Those damn blue eyes of her making her feel more enraged, more awful. End it, take back her ignorance. She now believed each eye must carry one half of her ignorance. That makes sense right, right?

But as the pups blue eyes began to bulge from the lack of oxygen, her sister came back into her mind, alive and happy. Those damn blye eyes. With a snarl, Grumble let her paw off of the pup and turned around, snarling now again at nothing in particular. She couldn't do it. She can't kill someone with eyes like that. "Nadya...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so angry...I'm sorry...Nadya..." She found herself sitting, weeping on her haunches as the emotions began to overflow her. Guilt, regret, sadness, loneliness, etc. How could a situation turn sour so fast? How is she going to keep going now, can she go on? Grumble found herself loosing all her senses, not bothering to give the pup another look as she let out her emotions for the first time since that incident. And so began her journey as a terror sister.
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Everything had happened so fast. Once she was removed from the situation, Amata sat back and watched the magic unfold. And there had been so much blood that.. Amata couldn’t help herself. She began to roll in it with yet another series of giggles as the child in Grumble had bled to death, creating someone new out of someone old.

She went on talking to someone who wasn’t here, and Amata went on rolling in the blood that had trailed onto the ground. She has stopped a moment to glance at Grumble’s neck, eyes wide. Wide, because, oh, how Amata would love to tear into that next. She had been ignoring Grumble’s nonsense talk, though at the mention of killing someone, Amata had her interest peeked.

That was, until Grumble turned towards her and tried to snuff the life right out of her. And she’d do her best to fight her off; little body squirming like a fish out of water while her claws would attempt to dig into the paw that held her down. To no vail, it would seem, so Amata decided she would play dead. If this was how she was going to go, then so be it, right? She went limp and no sooner than she did, did Grumble release her.

Alright, alright; lesson learned. Next time, don’t stick around. And there, Grumble went, talking to herself again. Oh, Amata, what have you done? Amata would smile, though, chuckling gently. She didn’t know who Nadya was, but ooh, what if..?

The temptation was too much for Amata to think of anything else. So she would very boldly come to sit aside her weeping slave. “There, there..” Amata would say, deciding that if anyone should ask, her name was Nadya.

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Grumble found herself looking down at the source of the noise. It was the pup sitting down next to her, cheeky little fucker. There was no more rage left in Grumble. She merely let out a snort. A cold apathy befell upon her veins. Her right growing cold as the fresh blood lost its heat, indicating the mess was probably but a trickle now as the blood-clotting began it's attempt to fix her injury. She let herself cry silently a little longer before she picked herself back up. As she remembered what she had originally told father. That she would consume everything without question. She would strip this earth bare, let it know of her rage someday. This anger, she needed it to keep moving forward, to motivate her. Still she made sure to gather the little ignorance she had left to wrap around her brain, to shield her at least a little bit from this awful world.

With a sigh, she put a paw down on the pup's head in an attempt to gently pat her. Grumble was a little too strong for her own good though, and the pup proceeded to bobble like bobble-head from the attempt of affection. "We should get moving soon..." She mumbled, having an idea of just who to turn to. If losing her eye in the first five minutes wasn't proof that she needed help than she didn't know what else she would do. She would seek help from a friend.
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