i've been running through the jungle, i've been running with the wolves to get to you
Brink’s mother is... not a very good mother, if we’re being honest.
Anabel tries, but let’s face it: the telepathic shapeshifter was never meant for anything other than being her elder brother’s plaything, and though Brink may not know what their relationship means, she knows that her mother is basically useless and the only thing she has provided her child thus far is nourishment. She doesn’t love her daughter—at least, she doesn’t act like it, and Brink has seen the way she treats her twin. That is love. It is a weird, convoluted, not-quite-okay kind of love, but Dayne gets more attention than little Brink ever will, and so she leaves her mother.
She has no knowledge of the plague that has swept across the lands, though technically she has spent her entire life outside of the so-called safe lands. She doesn’t know if the Playground is safe, or if it is plague-stricken, and honestly, the thought of a place called the Playground being unsafe never even crosses the child’s mind. All she knows is that she is lonely and in desperate need of some kind of love, even if it is just the unconditional love that is radiated by children. She is but a child, after all.
The little dingo-girl races across the meadow in leaps and bounds, her short puppy legs flailing in a million different directions as she runs. As all puppies tend to do, she spends a lot of time tumbling through the grass as her motor skills aren’t quite the greatest yet, but she doesn’t let the spills slow her down any. She has escaped her crazy mother and her mother’s weird twin, and that’s all she cares about for now. She must be a sight to all of the more “normal” foals that don’t shift like she does, but the fairies wouldn’t have let her in if she wasn’t a real foal.
A real foal. Imagine that. Just stuck in a little dingo-dog body.
@Corban