Silver Moraine Like a colour lost in shade

His energy was spent. The storm that seemed to follow him across the valley finally broke at the crack of dawn and Ephraim, driven so far past the point of exhaustion that he could hardly think, collapsed in a heap on the rocky ground. Every muscle in his body screamed for reprieve. His belly was too heavy with deep-rooted fear and the nausea that accompanied it for him to feel hungry, but his throat was raw and dry from the cries that had wracked it throughout the night. There was no water, though.

Every time he had tried to stop or seek shelter, the sky had bellowed again, awaking the animal within and sending Ephraim scrambling away again. He had run farther than any pup his age had any right to be able to run, and then some. Fear was a wonderful motivator and its effects on him were godly. Even as he lay with his face pressed into the ground, sobbing helplessly and unable to muster any strength to lift himself back up, his ears were fully erect and scanning for the clash in the skies that would send him running once more.

But the storm had broken, leaving only a gentle rain to wash over Ephraim's battered and muddied body as he dizzily fought to hold onto his consciousness.

When he and Mirabelle finally part, Étoille finds he's not ready to return to Drageda, his heart heavy with the weight of things unsaid. So he lingers, his steps bringing him near Morningside, near enough he briefly contemplates going to say hello to Grayday. It has been a while. 

Before he can make the decision, something else catches his attention. The faint sound of sobbing and the  smell of someone close by -- a child, he realises quickly as he moves toward the source. His footsteps hasten until he finds the boy, dirty and wet and clearly alone. No scent of others in the area, and no pack-scent on his fur (as far as Étoille can discern, anyhow.) Not wishing to frighten him the titan moves slowly, lowering himself, ignoring the rain. "Boy," he says, taking him to still be conscious, "you are lost." It is a question, his voice lifting at the end, though posed in typical Étoille fashion as a statement.

He was dead. He knew it and the despair of it crushed him. Without his family he was unable to obtain food, and he didn't have the slightest clue which direction they were in. The paralytic fear that had kept him moving throughout the night had also robbed him of his memories of the event; he retained only brief flashes to reference, and his flight had been so frantic that he didn't know how many times he'd changed directions or gone off course. No, it was impossible for him to find his way back to Caiaphas' arms and Kierkegaard's stoic protection. He was on his own and he was going to die.

Instinct told him to find others to stave off the inevitable, but others turned him away once before. He could only imagine that would be the outcome again, and that made the weight on his shoulders heavier. He was sobbing so heavily and was so dead exhausted that he didn't even notice Étoille creeping up behind him; the adult male could have dispatched him and he would never know what hit him. But he didn't. A gravelly voice reached his ears instead and Ephraim mustered the little energy he'd recovered to lift his head and turn his blurry gaze over a narrow shoulder.

The ruddy-masked wolf was like no one he'd ever seen, but he had a gentle countenance and soft eyes, so Ephraim slowly nodded. He didn't think words would come out even if he opened his mouth, so he didn't even try. He just sniffled as a shiver ran through him.

He had not realised the severity of the boy's condition at first. Watching his small form, soaking wet, struggle to look at him makes it clear. Étoille takes a step closer, carefully watching for his reaction lest he frighten him off (though, he wonders if the boy could really run in this shape). The  boy is mentally there enough to answer him, if not verbally. Encouraged, the titan moves to use his head to block out some of the rain over him. "Where is your family?" He asks, thinking first if there is a way to reunite them, that would be best -- and if not, if he is lost like Furi was, in need of protection... well. Étoille has a soft spot for children, after all. (And he suspects heda will be willing to indulge him -- hopefully.)

Another gentle question. Days ago Ephraim had met an adult with the same question in the manner of a bullheaded urchin, refusing to give details out of a need to keep his privacy. Now, he didn't have any answer to give. Another soft shake rolled through him and he pressed down his ears, opened his mouth and croaked a quiet and fear-limned, "lost."

It wasn't much of an answer. He was numbly parroting the adult more than anything; his mind was still racing and his thoughts were difficult to collect into anything coherent. He was tired, his body fatigued, his stress levels to the point of bursting. In that moment any sound louder than Étoille's gentle voice would surely spook him, though even if he regained his feet, without another's aid, he would just fall again. His eyes searched the brown mask on that large but benevolent face with a spark of desperation, communicating more than his words could allow at that moment.

want to end this one and move to Drageda? I can start that one!

Lost.

It's all Étoille needs to hear. The look on the boy's face only confirms things, sending the tender part of the titan's heart beating hard. His mind is already made. "I am going to pick you up," the steltrona says, guessing that in his condition the boy couldn't get away from him anyway, but wanting to -- give him space to consent, at any rate. Assuming he does, Étoille reaches down and gently grasps him by the scruff, lifting him from the mud so that he may quickly get him to the safety of Drageda's borders.

It had been a long time since he was scruffed and carried. His parents were busy with Svalinn most days and he had legs of his own that they expected him to use. Ordinarily he may have protested, but he was far too weak and vulnerable for it now; he consented by lowering his head and exposing the back of his neck for the adult wolf. Somewhere inside him alarm bells rang, telling him that he wouldn't get to see his parents or his brothers and sister again if he let this stranger carry him away, but he knew he wouldn't find them anyway. He couldn't even guide Étoille to their location from here.

So, hanging from the strong wolf's jaws and grateful for the opportunity to rest his weary bones, Ephraim was whisked away from the taiga.

Works for me!