ill bite ;; stuck

EVERY GRIN WE SHARE IS LIKE.
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack

since his return home, aesior had lingered around his son, watching over him and trying to console his own thoughts and worked up mind. the sound of his son's shell thunking against a root caught his attention, domestic grim turning his head to him, pausing in his collection of berries for a jam he planned to make later in the day. frowning as he observed the small shape struggling, stuck, an amused smile came over his maw at the annoyed hiss and the bite to the root. shaking his head to himself, he set down his picking basket and approached his son, bending his head and attempted to press his veil covered muzzle to his shell to help him move, soon moving away to dig at the ground under the root and around vintara, to help the turtle move from the root.

it was a small distraction, having been trailing him from camp to the pond that vintara called home. perhaps, it was time to show him the pond that he grew his own herbs in? the waters there were safe, he had made sure of that, he would only need to impress the importance of him not digging up any roots he found, they were for his herbs after all. exhaling, he coughed a few times to clear his throat, frowning to himself. would he be able to find honey somewhere here in the swamps? or would he have to trade for it?

A PRAYER COMMITED TO THE SONG WE SING.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.

credit @/teef