The past few nights, she had avoided the others all together. Killgore had never experienced grief, that is, until the loss of her son. Her beautiful child. She slowly crossed the hills, doing her best to haunt the least travelled paths. A dark smudge on the horizon, her body moving rather mechanically. She didn't fully comprehend what she was feeling, she just wanted to escape it. To go to her safe place inside where nothing could touch her, where nothing could crack the surface. She could have peace enough to deal with the shock in her own way, but surely first she had to make a bit of a dissapearance. The others would likely keep Khaos busy for the time being, only a few more days until she would have to face the music. To admit her failure.
The spring grasses had really flurished, like a sea the tickled her under carriage, as she set to some mindless grazing. Anything to free her mind, if but for a while.
She didn't even notice the small purple blob curled up amid the greens. Not until she knocked it with her hoof, the object wiggling against her exposed dagger making her jerk in surprise. She peered down at a little being, head tucked beneath a feathered wing, it's slow breaths soft and dreamlike. Though the little one shivered dispite it's additional wind block. The shade perhaps good for afternoon sun was not all that comfortable in the morning hours.
Killgore raised her dignified dial, auds flicking as she listened, her eyes scanning the nearby treeline. Not a peep. Not a sight, she sniffed deeply an unfamiliar female reeking from the child. Yet, where was the mother? Not here that was for sure, the purple bundle quite alone now.
