The hobbling, limping, awkward gate of the fox made him easy to spy from afar. Cirrus watched him with tired, numb eyes, watched as he bent to drink, only to lay his eyes upon her and try to flee. "Don't," she called softly, trying to sound reassuring. "I won't hurt you," she added, such an easy lie to tell. Not so long ago, it would have been the truth - maybe that was what made it so easy for her tongue to craft it.
The mare lowered her tiara, even as she walked with her wings drooping slightly from her side, towards the pool of the Grove. As she did, she could better see the critical state the fox was in, and she almost wept for hopelessness.
Why did she have the kill, before she could heal?
@Essetia
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I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c: