Lyla
Call it instinct, I just knew something was wrong and I've known for a while now. Terra's arrival only worsened it.
I was anxious as I walked through the hall, trying to distract myself with the greetings from the pack house domestic as I went by, but in the end, I reached the visitor's sitting room where Terra was.
My fingers curled into fists as I paused at the doorway, hoping I could read the emotions of the woman inside and mentally prepare myself. I was taken aback by the picture of the woman I saw. Instead, of the bright, vibrant woman I've come to know, Terra sat slumped on one of the plush sofas.
Her once-radiant copper-toned skin looked pale, and her cheekbones were more pronounced, an indication that she had lost a lot of weight. She was wearing casual clothes, different from the usual attire (Her ceremonial attire) but they hung loosely on her frame as if the clothes were hung on her.
