Hideaway Strath Still without voices we cry out

Sirius' attention had been divided ever since meeting his blood relatives. He was a loving boy, with room for all in his mischievous heart, so he puzzled constantly over his inability to see his true parents and siblings on the daily basis. He understood that it wasn't allowed but couldn't find reason in the facts himself. Would anyone be hurt if he saw them more? Immediately his thoughts turned to the wolf he felt closer to than anyone, and his mis-matched eyes found Hemlock peering with stressed eyes into the distance.

Everyone was stressed these days. The Svartell felt Roarke's absence as keenly as anyone of the Family -- having only known the entire Lotturo's presence his entire life -- but he hadn't grasped the same severity of the situation that had taken root in the hearts of the adults surrounding him. He bounced towards Hemlock with gangly, boisterous leaps, and crashed into her legs like a low wave when he tumbled to a stop. Laying on his back, he pawed up at her and grinned; eager to infect her with a different mood.