Username: Glowingsaltshaker
Name: Wanda
Gender: female
Prompt:
Wanda had always been what most would consider 'carefree'. Not exactly paying much mind to what was going on around her. She was born in a luxurious mansion where her parents where carefully selected for breeding. At the time, she hadn't but a single thought in her mind about leaving. It was so perfectly unfathomable, that idea of change. The way she saw it, everything was all in order and the same laid-back life should and would be carried out each day. As the days and weeks went on, she grew older, and larger. Her owners began to be more strict and stern with her. Discipline was being brought on gradually, but to her it was a brutally unjust change. And that wasn't the only imbalance to her normal. It seemed, every other day that her siblings were being snatched away. At first, it seemed like the thieves were just common groomers, or sitters. But as they left one by one, and didn't return, she stopped hoping they would.
Roughly a month after all of her siblings had left, a knock sounded at the door. A young woman appeared as it opened, with a pained smile. Wanda couldn't hear the conversation, but from what she could infer, the strange woman was enduring loss. For the first time that she could think of, Wanda was feeling sympathy. She nuzzled to the woman's hand as a tear dropped to the floor. It carried on for a while, and she sat there, calm and still as the woman stroked her fur. It seemed to help, so she stayed put. One of her owners started to walk out of the room, and came back with her leash. Clipping it gingerly to Wanda's collar, he handed it to the woman. She seemed surprised, but took it gently from him and nodded gratefully, walking off with her.
When they arrived, the woman was still sad, but hopeful. The house was small, only roughly an eighth of the size of her previous mansion. This seemed unusual, however Wanda carried on. The woman grabbed the old, rusty doorknob as it gave in with a push. The air was stale and cold inside, colder than it was out of the house. Old pictures and paintings lined the walls, and the lighting was seldom and dim. The bulbs had seen better days. Before Wanda could get started exploring the bare, practically ancient house, the woman slumped on the dusty couch with a heavy sigh, and her eyes were glazed with tears held back. She looked to the paintings of her, and a much older man, likely her grandfather. The house smelled of a missing presence, as though someone had left. Instead of bringing confusion, it only brought her understanding. Wanda knew it was loss when she put the pieces together, and nuzzled up to the woman who was now relieved having a friend in her arms.
