Whispers of the Wild Heart

Previously

…A deep, ancient sadness that seemed to emanate from her very core. Today, as their mother had stood silhouetted against the dim light, her gaze fixed on something far beyond the den’s confines, Lyra had seen it again. A subtle downturn of her lips, a faraway look that spoke of a world Lyra couldn’t fathom, a world before the harshness, before the fear that seemed to rule their lives. It was a dangerous thing to notice, Lyra knew. To look too closely at their parents was to invite their wrath. Their father, a hulking shadow of brute force, communicated primarily through growls and the sting of his paw. Their mother’s cruelty