Barrow Fields I'm Cavin' In

The pale boy was healing too slowly, especially with the lack of food and rest during the pair's trip through the caverns. He grew weaker, more confused with each step-- but that was easily forgotten with the storm in his mind. Being around Arrille constantly had stirred strange feelings in Prince, and at first it had not been unpleasant, but then...
Then he started feeling like Arrille was someone who had hurt him. Deeply. It was an aching thought, because he had grown to like the other quite a bit. Almost in a way he didn't quite understand. The hurt had simmered and dulled into bitterness after so many times of admiring the other's white-and-gold composition and brilliant cerulean gaze only to be struck with grief.
Memories followed the feelings in short order, and for perhaps too brief a time he was angry. The boy didn't know how to react to the tidbits he remembered; meeting Arrille, finding he was gone, blaming him for something... something bad...
He couldn't recall, but he felt it had something to do with his home. His packmates. Prince did recall, now, that once Arrille had been one of them. Once.

He had let this stew for days, allowing more tidbits to come back to him every few hours. The boy had been a little withdrawn, but despite himself-- despite his memories-- something about this experience stuck with him. Their bonding in that cave, during that vulnerable moment, was not easily forgotten. It didn't take him long to decide what he had to do.
Prince was quiet as he followed Arrille into the open air, breathing a sigh of relief. He had missed the sun...
I'm okay. He murmured, unable to meet the other's eyes. There's something I need to tell you, Arrille. I remembered something.