Porcupine Ridge sweet nothings,

@Alasdair ; envy tag for mention

The night had settled over Shadow Ridge, a blanket of muted grays and shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly into the surrounding wilderness. Lorcan moved through the territory like a wraith, his steps soft against the cold, damp earth. He hadn’t quite gotten his bearings yet, hadn’t made any effort to. Shadow Ridge was still unfamiliar, still untrustworthy. The wolves here were a mix of hardened edges and veiled intentions—wolves he might’ve called kin in another life, but for now, they were strangers. All of them.

Except for her.

@Envy.

The little twerp had slipped into his thoughts like a thorn snagged in fur, persistent and sharp. He didn’t know how she’d managed it—didn’t care to dwell on it too long—but her presence kept him tethered to this place. It wasn’t loyalty, not exactly. More of an intrigue. A curiosity he couldn’t shake.

He exhaled through his nose, a quiet sound of annoyance, and pressed on. The chill in the air felt good, biting against his fur and clearing his head. The familiar scents of the Ridge filled his nostrils—damp bark, frost-laden grass, the faint musk of wolves—but then, something caught him off guard.

A pup.

Lorcan froze mid-step, ears swiveling forward, sharp against his skull. He hadn't known there were pups here. No one had mentioned them—not in the half-conversations he’d caught, not in the glances exchanged around camp. He breathed in again, slower this time, his mind quick to piece together the trail. It wasn’t old, either. Fresh. Close.

A flicker of something unfamiliar stirred in his chest. Curiosity? Annoyance? Concern? He couldn’t pin it down, and that frustrated him even more. With a soft huff, he moved again, this time following the trail like a predator drawn to prey—but this wasn’t hunger. It was something else entirely, something he didn’t yet understand.

The scent led him through the trees, weaving between the Ridge’s silent sentinels, until finally, it grew stronger. Lorcan slowed, his dark frame blending seamlessly into the shadows as his sharp eyes scanned the area. Somewhere ahead, he would find the source.

And he wasn’t sure if he liked what he might find.

A sentinel—cast silent like an iron gate as he stared out across the bleak lands below them. Vivid green eyes were piercing—but the heaviness and sorrow that bled within them for days now had absorbed into mute finality.

The rustle of another garnered his attention, but he paid it little heed. Before, his gaze would scour for the stark figure of white and a flash of emerald—as if the news delivered to him had been untrue, and Nephele would come for him any moment now—a mother bear to sweep back her cub.

But each day had passed, and the stillness of grief had settled over him like a blanket.

Now, he endeared survival. And as such—somehow—that meant becoming a member of this pack he had somehow opened his eyes within, and been encased within.

Only the deft flick of an ear would give way the boy heard anything—acknowledgement otherwise ignored.

Lorcan approached with his characteristic swagger, a predator’s grace in each step as his shadow stretched long over the silent, stocky pup. For a moment, he simply studied him, his intense amber eyes flicking over the boy’s stark silver coat and those vivid, sorrow-laden green eyes that seemed far too old for his age.

Well, well, Lorcan began, his smooth voice weaving through the still air. Here I thought I’d find a young hellion tearing up the scenery, not a little philosopher drowning in melancholy.His tone was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something deeper beneath it—a recognition of the weight that burdened the boy.

He settled himself beside him, but not too close, leaning forward just slightly as if to share a secret. Name’s Lorcan. Been lookin’ for you, y’know. The new pup in our ridge. He smirked, a fleeting curve of his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He tilted his head, his dark coat catching the dim light as he regarded the pup. So, how about it, then? You tell me what’s got your tail in a twist, and maybe I’ll share how I became the charming rogue you see before you. Fair trade?