For once she was alone. No jackal at her side, ready to help out if she had a panic attack or if she had to try and get something across to someone else without the use of words. The jackal had adapted to her eternal silence quite well, an expert at reading what was there in her eyes and relaying her thoughts to others.
She felt...she felt lost without him.
So, she decided that whilst he was attending to his other duties in the pride, she would sit and do nothing. That way no harm could come of her and she'd be fine until he came back.
So, she sat in part-shade, grooming her forepaws as best as she could considering the sandy terrain she now lived upon. It seemed, even through the trauma she had suffered, she'd not lost the grooming habits.
