Sea Lion Shores bitter and biting

 

Ceallach had to stay and focus his efforts in the pack and it's well being. That didn't mean that he wasn't terrified by it, he still was in a sense, he'd never endured winter and there were little kids to think of too. He liked to think that his father and Hemlock had considered everything but....well. It was so easy to go south. It was so easy for everything to fall apart. Ceallach paused to sniff at a patch of seaweed and wondered if Eirlys was bored as he was or not. Her relative silence had gotten so common to him he'd grown so used to just interpreting her emotions and actions based on looks alone. It was safe and comfortable between them, even if sometimes he felt a little dependant on his sister. 

His nose wrinkled, unhappily about the particular smell about of it and the bitter harsh scent of the ocean on it. He missed the forests and the sweep and the river itself. It wasn't that Ceallach was necessarily unhappy but at the same time - when was the last time something went right for them? Droman and Reed were about the only bright spots and he still didn't spend much time along with them because of his fear of hurting them. He still had those near blackout rage moments. He couldn't risk the little kids getting hurt because he couldn't handle himself. 

A sound caught his attention and he turned quickly towards the source to find another wolf approach. Ceallach bristled a bit, just feeling himself grow particularly protective of the secrecy in which they'd fled. "Hello," He said as evenly as he could - he couldn't smell the other yet and he had no real reason to make a fuss at that point.