Broken Boulder may we stay lost on our way home

· 02/18 ·

It seemed since Alarian had entered the Teekon Wilds, life had not ceased its efforts to unbalance him. Despite his anchors, it had finally succeeded-- again. The boy was distant, faded; a paper cut-out of himself. He trailed after his companions without much enthusiasm or interaction.
The change had not been as overnight as it may have seemed. What was the boy's fragile mind to do but break under the pressure of recent events? At first it had been quiet cracks in the glass, but now he felt entirely shattered, and it seemed nothing could fix it.

A strange, restless energy took hold of him before long. He couldn't remain any longer. Ali had left in a hurry, without goodbyes or intentions of coming back because at the end of the day he was a coward. He was an outcast, too, by nature; even if he felt he fit in for a moment, surely that moment would not last. The boy didn't think he could stand another heartbreak, not when he was already breaking in so many ways.
The dead of night he had used to cloak his escape was erased into a brilliant orange and pink sunrise by the time he stopped, feeling he had gone far enough. At least to rest for a time. He did not let his thoughts drift to what he had left behind, knowing it would break his resolve. Instead, the boy explored the new territory. It was rocky and seemed exposed at first, but the thick forest behind it almost served as a barrier from behind. On the other sides, plains, stretching so far he was sure he'd see if anyone followed him in time to get away.
When Alarian found the first entrance to the dens, though, his carefully-placed walls collapsed with a single thought: This would make a good home for us. Us. Such a simple word, but he instantly knew what it meant. The realization came with a sense of dread, resignation, but relief as well. He did belong with his group-- his pack. Whether he liked it or not, whether it was a sad existence or a happy one, he was irrevocably bound to the companions he had unintentionally collected.
How could he run from Lanawyn? From Lainie? These thoughts alone caused a shamed heat to flush through his face and ears, but then he remembered the two who had started it all for him and suddenly he was sobbing. The boy took off blindly into the tunnel entrance.

Eventually his running calmed to sullen exploring, and his sobbing died to a quiet trickle of tears; he knew now he would return. He would always return.

· 02/20 ·
The boy had spoken nothing of his previous plans, of the feelings that still lingered. With a sudden and unusual burst of excitement that he only felt as if through a fog, he had gone to his lover with his discovery.
And now, the budding pack would have a home.

It had taken a day of scouting and discussion among the group, but soon they were on their way. Buzzing with excitement but still unwilling to engage most, the boy had been flitting between Lanawyn and Korei. The others went largely ignored; he meant no slight by it, but his battered mind took comfort only in the presence of the two most important girls in his life. Each time he looked at them, he was reminded of why he had turned back.
He couldn't even bear to look at Lennon.
At that thing around his neck, at his wounds-- Alarian felt somehow at fault for this misfortune. Surely it was his curse, something he had brought with him when he joined the group, and now it was following Lennon too. What if it killed him, one day? The boy couldn't bear the thought, and he didn't know what to do.

But these thoughts disappeared when they finally arrived. Ali bolted ahead without warning, eager to locate and show off the entrance to the dens he had found. His reluctance to stay had not been forgotten, but alongside it he had found a new determination to rid himself of these feelings. This is home, now, he told himself, no matter what.

In his absence and series of unfortunate events following said leave, Lennon was a bit different. He had seen a world through new lenses, one unfamiliar; gloomy and cold. He wasn’t, for the time being, who he’d been but a little over a month ago. Everything seemed stale and brittle, his upbeat mien was a facade he played brilliantly for the others hence his return. Though, occasionally, the time where he would relieve his mind of reality and encompass himself in song had ceased. Instead, he was seen blankly staring off into an oblivion that was no melody.

The sudden news was breathtaking and finally he felt that tingle of light that had ran away. He couldn’t express his joy like the others, his wounds preventing any form of jumping around and yipping like a pup. Though, he did carol a sunny howl that perfectly portrayed his excitement.