It was a relief at least to see the kit eating after who knows how long; whatever she couldn't manage, bones and scales or fins, Delta could swallow himself to keep any dangerous scavengers away. He paused his grooming when she turned to look at him, momentarily worried that he'd upset the kit further by the sorrow in her gaze, but she muttered something then.
''s okay?' Had she understood him? He offered a hesitant smile in hopes that it would help, and at once the kit's bawling crescendoed and she lunged forward to bury herself into his still wet fur.
The poor kit, he was half her size and biting cold from the river's chill, it probably wasn't the most comfortable sensation to hug him. Still, it seemed that he was the only one there for her, and although at first he flinched and stilled at her sudden hold, slowly he forced his fur flat and resumed awkwardly lapping his tongue across her pelt as she cried. He wished he knew her language, so he could ask her name and what had happened to her, but the best he could do now was to keep her comfortable. It certainly something he wasn't used to doing, but he could try.
"Sokay," Delta slurred, attempting to replicate how the kit had said it. He made a gurgling, strange purr in hopes that it would soothe her, but again he had no idea if it would work. He wasn't like her; he would need to find her other wolves soon, especially with winter approaching. He thought of the colorful wolf he'd seen in the saltwater cove, the one with fins and gills like him. Sure he lacked wings, but he was a wolf like her, and claimed to be part of a pack- Dusknora, if he remembered correctly. A pack that followed Tsillah and made their home in a land full of water and tall green trees not far from where the brightwood ended.
They would know how to keep a kit like her alive. With so many trees, perhaps there were even wolves there with wings like hers. How could he tell her though that she could trust such wolves? They followed the same goddess, yes, but could he even?
It wasn't like he had much choice. He decided that he would tell her later, perhaps in the morning when things were less frightening. He continued to groom the blood from her pelt and shakily purr, keeping an eye out on the tree line to make sure no predators came to investigate while the kit cried.
''s okay?' Had she understood him? He offered a hesitant smile in hopes that it would help, and at once the kit's bawling crescendoed and she lunged forward to bury herself into his still wet fur.
The poor kit, he was half her size and biting cold from the river's chill, it probably wasn't the most comfortable sensation to hug him. Still, it seemed that he was the only one there for her, and although at first he flinched and stilled at her sudden hold, slowly he forced his fur flat and resumed awkwardly lapping his tongue across her pelt as she cried. He wished he knew her language, so he could ask her name and what had happened to her, but the best he could do now was to keep her comfortable. It certainly something he wasn't used to doing, but he could try.
"Sokay," Delta slurred, attempting to replicate how the kit had said it. He made a gurgling, strange purr in hopes that it would soothe her, but again he had no idea if it would work. He wasn't like her; he would need to find her other wolves soon, especially with winter approaching. He thought of the colorful wolf he'd seen in the saltwater cove, the one with fins and gills like him. Sure he lacked wings, but he was a wolf like her, and claimed to be part of a pack- Dusknora, if he remembered correctly. A pack that followed Tsillah and made their home in a land full of water and tall green trees not far from where the brightwood ended.
They would know how to keep a kit like her alive. With so many trees, perhaps there were even wolves there with wings like hers. How could he tell her though that she could trust such wolves? They followed the same goddess, yes, but could he even?
It wasn't like he had much choice. He decided that he would tell her later, perhaps in the morning when things were less frightening. He continued to groom the blood from her pelt and shakily purr, keeping an eye out on the tree line to make sure no predators came to investigate while the kit cried.