so are we to just abandon the notion of progress for the sake of wishful thinking?

@Célnes

Sickness had taken a toll on Melrose, though she wouldn't admit it out loud. Maybe she was a little smaller than her other siblings, a little behind in physical development- but she was determined to catch up. As much as she had been treated like a patient in her childhood thus far, there was no time for runts, she would not let herself become one no matter what mother nature decided. If mother nature wanted her to be a weakling, to war with nature she would go. 

In seeking of her own physical strength she had began small hunts whenever she could. They were not always successful, not often really- and only in pursuit of little things like mice. But strength took time, and she would take her time building it. Even if the failures stung her pride. 

On this morning she had caught the scent of vole, with her nose pressed to the green earth she attempted to determine which path it took. Still a puppy really, with her clunky paws and wide girl-eyes, but Rosemund's pursuit was that of an adult in her mind.
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Her children were growing, and often or not.. A bunch of hoodlums. Celnes would watch a few of their 'adventures' from the shadows, especially as strangers were to be introduced to them, she often watch with a caution. Sometimes the visitor would see the Queen, and knew she was on the defense if anything were to happen. But above all, she wanted her children to gain experience, so that their mind does not grow into a fool. To be betrayed was surely the most foolish act, and she hoped to raise them well enough to see throw lies and deceit.

Yet, not all her children, could be blessed in those teachings. Some were more quiet and more.. Prone to be doing, and then she had the other ; her sickly child, Melrose. Often kept within a den of herbs to recuperate, Celnes would separate her from her siblings for the sole reason they had far too much energy, and often would disturb the rose-child. To get well, she must be of a peace.

Finally did that bare fruit though, as her daughter started to wander more out ; being true to her age and on occasion to hunt. Her heart soared in a pride, approaching from behind Melrose and giving her the slightest touch of affection from above, "Are you on a stroll?" the mother asked.

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A small jump of her bones when Mother tapped her, and she scolded herself for being too focused on her task to notice the approach from behind. She wasn't good enough yet that way- anyone could sneak up on her like that. She made a note to herself to work on her overall awareness, and then looked up at her beloved matron. “Hunting. There's a vole around here.” She whispered in a hushed tone. On one paw she wished she could be left alone in the pursuit of her own self-achieved success... but there was something nice about having mother around, maybe. The security of backup. But there was perhaps a chance that Celnes would observe silently rather than assist... she was a mother that cared for Melrose, but also wanted the best of her children. Or maybe she'd just give advice. The rosebud wasn't sure whether the adult would offer any assistance but the girl put her nose back to the ground, scooting forward a couple steps as she found the path, making sure to keep part of her focus behind her this time too.
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It warmed her greatly about Melrose's health. There was a few times where she didn't know how the other would grow up — she was smaller, then most of the litter, and well-behind. But finally she spread her wings, venturing out more and more until the Queen found her hunting. She crouched behind her rose, who diligently was looking for the vole.

A silence was there, except for small advice, "Watch for your paws, the slightest sound can scurry them away, keep light."

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One ear flicked back to listen to her mother, with a small acknowledging nod of her head as she took the advice in stride. Her next steps were gentler on account of that tip, she was sure to be as silent as a mouse, ironic as that was. The path weaved in a way so whimsical and illogical that only a small minded creature could make it, she thought. Curves and lefts and rights, it was a good thing she was much larger than the little creature that wasted time scurrying this way and that. 

She was not sure if Mother would follow, but the path did not stray far until it led to the trunk of a tree. She could see a small burrow of some sort, which she would not approach yet, but she was close enough to assume that was where the trail ended. Right where she wanted it. As quiet as ever, Rosemund lowered her center of gravity to the earth, intending to finish this trail in a panther-like stalk. It was essential to be silent and neither too quick nor too slow. Small steps carried her closer, where she would soon block the sunlight from the vore's den with her fangs agape, and spook the creature right out of the hole into her eager jaws.
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Celnes did follow, though she turned her path and took on a different way — delving into the shadows as she watched her young follow to the smaller path to where the vole, were smelled at. The Queen was always well equipped to sink the darkness, in both literal and metaphorically. Many of the deeds she committed would not be the same if it were not for being well-versed..

She watched, a smile within her hiding — but if Melrose tried well enough, she could see Celnes behind the vole mound, within the foliage.

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The sixth sense feeling of a presence behind her disappeared. She paid little mind, thinking Mother might've wandered away completely. She was a leader after all, sometimes there might be business to attend to. Melrose focused only on the task at hand. She was really like a feline with her cautionary movement. Any moment, any moment... 

and then she rushed forward with a sudden shift, her teeth stretching wide in front of the little burrow. In the same second one paw slammed itself on the roof of the den, intended to spook the creature... which it did. The vole rushed out, but her imagination of it rushing straight down her throat was not entirely accurate; it managed to slip past her fangs which did not cover the whole entrance. But Rosemund was quick on her feet and spun around, speedy enough to slam her fangs shut on the creature mid-scurry. There was an immediate wagging of her tail in the instant she realized her success, the prey still fading from this world between her teeth. At present she did not yet notice her mother watching from the shadows...
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A pride and joy — for the desire of an healthy daughter to ensure. Yet she didn't know yet that the Rose would become a troublemaker, as she was so used to her sickly, and quiet girl. It was a nice change to the more.. Energetic ones, or the rather quiet and pessimistic ones. A gentle in nature ; and though Warwick fit that to a T, how Celnes desired a daughter with the same one. 

"With each kill, we must say grace to the High Elk for the kill. Each wolves prayer is unique to their own, to feel more with Him. It does not need to be said out loud." Approaching from in front did the Queen say with a proud and warm smile, motherly looking down as she kept the vole to her mouth — one that was cleanly captured. Though she must not forget her origins as a Deorwine, and a prayer to be given. .. Though sometimes she does, forget — in those moments Celnes especially feels spiteful toward the patron. 

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She could’ve sworn Mother had disappeared completely, but it was only a second before her kin emerged. She reminded Melrose of the prayers, and Melrose nodded before gently placing her kill at her feet. The youth was a follower of their beliefs in the way any young child raised in religion was- lacking her own real connection to it yet, but happy to follow along as a tradition of the the family and a familiarity. Only time would tell if she would discover her own connection to the faith. But for now, Melrose dipped her chin and shut her eyes to focus, briefly offering up her own prayer, which was rather simple overall but certainly well intentioned. When she was done she blinked her eyes open, looking up at her Mother and trying to hide her own pride with herself for the success, trying to play it off humbly as she thought she should- expression neat and wagging tail settled. “Should I eat it now? Or… take it back for someone else?” A small questioning tilt of her jaw.
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Celnes couldn't say she knew her own daughter, or even daughters well. Most was but of sheer judgement on their outer wall, as her sickly one was often quiet before starting to rise further in health — and her others were.. Relatively easy to see through, a crier, the silent nightwalker, and the eldest one who was a fireball of confidence. 

"That is up to you to decide," the Queen said, "do you think someone else could use it more? Are you so hungry that you cannot wait?" She said to her daughter, letting her decide whether she should do for the pack itself, or go into selfish needs. Though Celnes couldn't say, she wouldn't do the same. Most small prey tend to be her own lunch and snack while the biggers one rot away within the caches.

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