The Hunter's Prayer. Lilitha;

[Ruan]

Ruan

it's not by bone but yet by blade
can break the magic that the devil made

 
It felt like it'd been a while since he'd seen Lilitha and her girl, so he chose today to pay a visit. The faded pink dawn was still sleepy, clinging to the sky with a crisp chill in the air. He didn't think she'd mind that he showed this early. Likely, she was already awake and watching her daughter sleep in a little longer. He'd nearly done the same with his own children, but there was business to attend to.

Call it habit, or just a developed part of his nature. It seemed to be built in, ingrained into his way of life, his wolven manner of existing.

"Lilitha," he greeted quietly, his grey-marked figure settling silently into the familiar shadows of his home. With an inaudible breath, he watched over her from nearby, his bright blue eyes penetrating the darkness like the yellow eyes of a night prowler. They were just as sharp, too, just as alert, but he wasn't a hunter today. Not yet.

"Do you rest well?" She was growing into motherhood, too soon if he were to say. Still young and vibrant, she should be living her life untethered to a child completely dependent on her. He would've preferred she not hold those grave responsibilities so early in life. An orphan, though. He could understand considering the many he'd taken in as well.

He'd been married then, though, and brought them all into a family full of love.
For a while.

The edges of his eyes darkened, trained on her and waiting patiently.

and it's not by fire but what's forged in flame
can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain