i prayed on the unmovable }} rescue

｢  H U R R Y  U P !  T H E  S U N  I S  G O I N G  D O W N !  ｣

ENGAGED
POLAR BEAR
PRIVATEER
TYPHOON
BIOGRAPHY

Diya was tired and pissed. She didn't understand the coalitions need to take children, her children. It was as if they had some sort of death wish, wanting to lose their lives to the angry claws of a raging mother. It hadn't been a hard decision, the one deciding that Diya and Roxanne would rescue their son. Diya had stayed back for Torsten's rescue, needing to stay to watch the other children, but she had enough. She wasn't staying behind anymore, they would feel the fury of her teeth and her claws. She moved through the territory quietly with her fiance, round ears perked as she tried to catch a whiff of Alex's scent.

When she finally did, she hung her head low and slowly cept forward, eyes landing on the opening of a cave. She would nod towards it, quietly whispering "I think I've found him, Roxanne." She moved towards the cave, upper lip curling at the thick metallic scent of blood. Her stomach panged, thirsty, but she stamped it down with a force. Moving with care, she kept ears pricked for the sound of others, for the sounds of her son. "Alexandre...?" she called out softly, steps faltering as she took in the sight in front of her. The sight of a brown pelted carcass sent a shiver up her spine but, at least it wasn't her son's pelt she was spotting.

Feeling ill, she moved towards it, spotting a flash of white fur... in the carcass? She let out a low whine, moving closer. "Mon soleil?", she hums softly, anxiety gripping her chest as she finally reached him. The sound of sobs reached her and she had to hold back her own. At least he was alive to do so, though it was a sound a mother never wants to hear from her child. She needed to hold herself together for him. She would use a paw to gently lift the pelt, frowning as the boy shifted away for a moment, and curled her massive paw around the boy. The polar bear would pull him out and close, murmuring soft consolations as she did so.

She would crouch down, pressing her muzzle gently against his side and murmuring, "you're okay, Mon Soleil, you're okay. I'm here, we're going to get you out of here," she gently hums, worry etched into her face. They needed to get out of there quickly, perhaps Roxanne could carry the boy back by flying over the ocean? The sooner they could get him back, and to Roan, the better.