On the morning of the third day, Harlyn rose from a fairly sleepless night surrounded by her family. Her eyes had been open and staring up through the branches of the canopy as the sun rose, and as dawn's light began to make the thick shade of the Hollow glow with an ethereal glaze, she too had risen. Two pups were snuggled between herself and Mordecai, and she had carefully tucked the third against him as well before stepping away and seeking out a nearby cache. That night, the pack would leave this place she had felt more at home than anywhere she'd been before. So, this morning, she would give them a breakfast to remember.
When they all had awoken, it was to find the leftover remnants of their nearest caches sitting nearby, waiting to be devoured. Harlyn had done it as a gesture of affection - a last chance to really bond as a pack. But also, there were practical advantages to it. Soon they would be on the road, and who knew when another meal would come. The food in their caches would go to waste without them, and Harlyn had no intention of allowing that to happen when she had a pack of wolves among her that would soon need their strength more than ever.
They'd spent the day discussing, planning, reassuring, comforting, and sharing. By the time the sun set, they had bid their farewells and set off. Whether it was out of realistic recognition that to travel alone was too dangerous, some residual loyalty they felt to the alpha pair, or true affection and devotion to one another, each member of the Hollow that slipped past the Eastern border and into the Wild went together. And though Harlyn had been distraught over the thought of this moment, as they abandoned Lost Creek Hollow to the horizon, she was pleased to find that no piece of her heart was left behind with it - it was carried safely and securely with each wolf that walked at her side.
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