𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍
𝙻𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑
𝙽𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗
𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛
Harrow was born destined to die. Fragile limbs held a heavy head, a crown tipping off the head of a prince. The pack tried desperately to care for him, but at the end of the day there was no way to win. His weak body was laid gently in the snow, a harsh winter covering his dark pelt in a drift of cold. All he can remember is the nipping feeling forming in the caverns of his nose, and then panicked whelps.
Ferah dashed through the cold, the storm holding strong as she carried the dying pup in her gentle maw. Maliah was close behind, her brows furrowed and body sharp as she ran. The two had been out looking for herbs for Ike's cold when they found Harrow, and he could never truly repay them for their kindness. His health recovered under their care, body still wobbly but overall coming back to life. He is happy and now a bright member of the Angelic Circle. Ferah and Maliah always thank Ike for her wonderful blessings, and Harrow makes sure to apprentice with Ike when he can as a debt to her.
