"not quite yet," foxflight says from behind me.
the ginger she-cat fixes me with her viridiscent-yellow gaze, then says, "lizardfern'll have to rest a while. poppy seeds are effective, but they don't last forever. after all, it's no easy thing, having a sibling taken away from you."
is that sympathy i see in her eyes, or something more? they're clouded with what can only be a memory.
i wish sedgespark's cold carcass, torn in two like a too-big piece of prey, was just a memory.
