Lost Creek Hollow when the earth holds still
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Andalusia had never meant to disappear, but what she'd intended as a two-week foray beyond the Hollow now neared the two-month mark. Distance and unfavourable weather had kept her from returning, and even when the snows had finally stopped, the mountain passes had proved much too dangerous to cross. So she'd bid her time, all the while inching day by day into an absence she was sure would raise suspicion of death or abandonment.

When the snows subsided and melted to show the ground beneath, she hadn't rushed in her return, though the Hollow never lapsed from her mind. Though she'd been eager to get back, there was no wisdom to travel in haste. She knew the longer her absence stretched, the more likely Harlyn and Mordecai would give her place in the pack to another, but better to be alive and forced to look for shelter elsewhere than to die for a security she would never see.

Dawn broke by the time she stepped near the Hollow's ground, but the sight did not mark the end of her venture. Andalusia had travelled through the night as soon as the surroundings became more familiar. Though exhaustion gripped her legs, she didn't let herself charge across the boundary. Rather, she stayed herself a respectable distance from where the scent of her aunt and uncle rose to meet her. Their mark had long faded from her fur; she was back to bearing the scent of a wanderer, of earthy wind and melting snow.

The Ostrega wasted no time in calling for @Mordecai, but held loosely to the hope he'd take her back into the Hollow's fold. If he chose to give her refuge again, she would accept, but if he turned her away, she would leave understanding, though the possibility pained her more than she would admit.
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marrow of the spirit
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sorry if this is a bit rocky, i totally jacked up my hand last night so typing is kind of a weird experience right now lel

While there had been many hopeful dispersals at their doorstep, few would have known to call him.  It roused him from the den and quietly so, as not to wake neither his mate nor their children within.  He was gone before he knew whether or not he was successful (and perhaps that was for the better) and made his way out towards the fringes of the territory they had claimed.  Snowfall slowed him in places, but for the most part like the winding trails of the woodland, they forged and carved their way through the accumulated scenery of winter.  He missed his mark as to where the caller would have been, but moving along the borders came a bit easier and in due time, he knew he would find the source of the summons.

And find her he did, perhaps no more than a few minutes after reaching the wandering division between what was theirs and what wasn't; the sight of Andalusia through the thinning forestry sent him forth to cut the distance between them.  He woofed once to draw her attention, though he had hardly taken the time to consider how drastically his own had changed.  But seeing her meant that she had come back to them and so happily was the only way he could seek to greet his niece.
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