Stella blinked away her tears in surprise when she felt a hand on her arm. Startled that she’d lost herself to her sadness so thoroughly she looked up into the sincere eyes of the military woman crouching before her. It was a good few seconds before her ears caught up with what that mouth was saying and even then she felt herself taken up and washed away in a flood of memories. No, she didn’t remember the name of the woman but as memories of that frantic time hit her like churning snow melt she recognized the pretty, sincere face among those captured in the memory. She nodded, her throat too closed off for words when the woman mentioned her charges. The wolves, Daedalus the eagle and so many others who had been rushed onto the ship and so many who had been left behind because there simply wasn’t time. 

She recalled to the press of children who watched as each of her charges was given over to the care of another, settled into this ark before she’d been rushed off to Stasis with just enough time to see her pack settled and little else. Time, she’d lost time and so much more and as the woman straightened and walked to the stage Stella felt a surge of impatience fill her. She’d lost time, but her charges hadn’t. How many still lived? How did they fare? She hadn’t thought that Daedalus would ever fly again, but maybe here in this ship of miracles someone else had been able to mend it for him. Not that it would do him any good. There simply wasn’t room to fly on this ship, not with such a wingspan as he had. 

She snapped back to attention and lifted her chin. She wanted to be off, to see to her animals but this debriefing had to be endured before she could do that. Her attention was fleeting, she had no stomach for these sorts of things and the gentleman who arrived and broke the illusion of the trees was every inch that for all his warmth and concern. The hole he left in the lie kept drawing her eyes and making her skin prickle. The prickle only intensified when the earnest woman took over the meeting and delivered her news. Dead, in stasis? Murdered. 

She shivered and let the cacophony of voices crying out in protest and shouting questions wash over her. The one question that got through and answered in its own way. But she was troubled. Secure personnel documents opened, people shifted as a result? What did that mean? What had they found in the records of those shifted? She was surprised to find her hand was raised, a question on her tongue.

“What did you find in the records that required shifts to be changed?” 

She hoped the prickling across her skin, the strange unformed worry were false. She just wanted to get to her charges, to touch their fur, to breathe in their scents and linger in their uncomplicated presence. But there were questions.