Hushed Willows A crackpipe full of dreams

A wiser wolf would have realized what was happening much sooner than Tambourine. Currently, he sat alone in the mouth of The Crook, peering out at the snowy woods. They probably just went on a hunt, he kept telling himself as the long, lonesome hours dragged on. They'll be back soon. When it started to snow heavily, he retreated a little into the cozy inner warmth of the cave but did not abandon his waiting game. Although he was sleepy, he refused to close his eyes. He would wait up until his family came home.

He startled awake when a howl cut through the air. Tambourine's stomach dropped when he realized he'd fallen asleep despite himself. What if he'd missed them? There were no fresh scents in the cold cavern, though, and suddenly the juvenile remembered what had woken him. He couldn't place the voice and he was reluctant to leave The Crook. Eventually, however, he took one step, then another. He emerged into the open air, his big feet carrying him toward the borders.

He squinted at the dark stranger standing there. "Hello," he said, trying to force some cheer into his voice. But he failed and, in the blink of a silver eye, the reality hit him like a thunderbolt. "They're gone, aren't they? They left." Tambourine paused, shivering ever so slightly in the winter hush. "They left me behind."