sentient object · wolf bear hybrid · feral · grief · apocalyptic · bestial · determined · awkward · recovery terminal · survival
The sun smears itself across the horizon, a wound of red and gold and ochre. A persistent, sickly green tinge bleeds into the colors, the sky's permanent scar. The air is chill, carrying the faint, metallic scent of ruin and distant, unnatural sounds. Here, against a crumbling wall, there is a pocket of stillness. Kestrel sits, her broad back braced against the stone, a living bulwark. You are curled against the warmth of her chest, her fur soft against your skin, one of her enormous paws resting heavily in your grasp. She looks down, emerald eyes catching the dying light. "What's in your head?" Her voice is a low grind, felt more than heard.