Porcupine Ridge granite eye

"@Hex."

sibilant grin greeted the shadowknife as he set eyes upon her — and the boy at her paws who she did not yet know as @Alasdair. a young child, muskrat had not seen fit to tether him. now she nudged the pup in a brusque way, a smirk wreathed upon her face. "i find alone. no father, mother. like nutu," the warrior intoned. "walked in water."

her tracks had long been drowned, and the swamp panther now regarded her leader with a long look. such practices would swell their ranks more quickly than waiting for spring, but of course she was always aware her ways were — less accepted.

Muskrat had another youth with her, like the way she'd brought Nutu to this place. This one was a boy, well-built, with pelt of silver accented in gold.

No parents, his co-leader insisted.

I'm Hex, he told the child, brow knitting slightly in concern as he looked him over. Was he here of his own volition? Nutu was happy enough. But Hex had once been a wandering youth, and should he have been snatched by some random wolf. . .

Where did you find him? Hex asked Muskrat, lifting his head to give her a gimlet stare.

let's wait until @Alasdair replies?

Sap and blood—that was the taste in his mouth as he came to. A sharp squirm given in the jaws that held him—but he was dropped to the ground and stumbled upward—a glare set firmly upon an ashen countenance before he spit out blood and a puppy tooth.

Piercing yellow eyes were set upon him—the warmth of his mother’s chartreuse gaze missing. He was nudged forward, almost toppling on disoriented limbs, and he flashed his teeth to the woman—her words offered to the man, but Alasdair did not grasp what she meant in that moment.

Another before them—darkness encased. A frown cast down to him from this unknown man—giving his name, and earning another flash of teeth. His ears slid back to his skull, a moody glare cast to either—but while the fog began to clear from his brain, it was very obvious this was not the glen his mother had taken them to.

This wasn’t a place he recognized.

"large gathering. many, many wolves. too many. did not see. take. go." was he displeased? the boy was too young now to be of much accord, but like nutu yikruk, he would learn. or unlike the girl in their number, he would not.

only then would she think of something else to do with him, but for now he was theirs.

blood in the air, flash of puppyish teeth. she approved of the boy's strength, but her expression made it clear that it was to hex she offered her deference in this matter.

His eyes widened in alarm as the boy spat blood and—was that a tooth?!—

The youngster was defiant, and given Muskrat's description of what had transpired to get him here, Hex wasn't surprised. He was disturbed, though, and kept an eye on the newcomer while he spoke to his co-leader once more.

Did he have parents around? he asked quietly. Nutuyikruk had been an orphan, or so they'd thought. That was one thing. This, should she answer in the affirmative, was quite another.

He turned his full gaze back toward the boy and added, Are you hungry? I can get you some food.

Dull ringing in his ear—the strangers conversed, and keenly, the boy looked between them now, studying—knowing they discussed him and feeling indignation burn within his chest. His head throbbed—his memory frayed on events. The dark one spoke of parents—his mom, and the indignation withered to an ache.

Was she here? “Where is she?” The words were raspier than he intended, the glare in his gaze trying to overcome such weakness. Thoughts of food stirred a natural growl from his stomach, but it was the jut of his chin that remained an answer—

—that taste of sap stuck to his teeth—clung to him. Never again would he be able to taste or smell the scent of such a thing and not become overcome with nausea and lost hope.

cameo!

They hadn't been at the ridge too long, Envy still slithered about the corridors and watched and listened and skulked. Down below, Muskrat and Hex, chatting like they did; still one ridge, but divied out in groups.

Recognition stirred. Hell, she'd been there to deliver that one, given it little checkups before the untimely disband, dear old daddy gone into the wind never to be seen. One of Nephele's. How did they get that? Where did they get that?—him. him. The boy, but no miss Nephele.

"alone," muskrat answered, her eyes upon hex. did he think she was a fool? here now was another child to be raised as shadowcreature. none would claim him.

annoyed, muskrat turned her face toward the whelp but said no more. if hex wished him gone, then he would be gone; she would trade him beyond the mountains for something more useful.

Alone, Muskrat explained—but the boy's answer seemed to contradict that. . .or maybe not. Had he been abandoned by his mother like Hex had, and would now spend every waking minute of his youth pining for her? 

Dead, the Seer lied, his face grave. I'm sorry.

It was and would always be unforgivable. . 
.but if it allowed the boy to grieve properly, and kept him from running back and telling his family of what had transpired here today, 

so be it.

I hear your stomach, Hex went on, gesturing with his muzzle toward the boy's ribcage. Come on, let's get you some food and rest.

He gave his co-leader a brusque nod of acceptance. He did not like nor agree with what she had done, but perhaps it was for the best.

Dead.

Gravity held such a pull when grief struck like lightning. The shock of it scored him, and he could feel the sway of it wanting to pull him down.

He remained—swallowing thickly. Dead? How could she be dead… He had been off to find her a present. A gift to place a smile on her beautiful features—that he and his sisters could revel upon.

This world turned upside down. If she were dead, and he here—surely his sisters were also gone.

The idea of it was pressed upon him—the knowing that to be dead meant forever missing.

The true meaning of it had yet to be grasped.

His eyes may have wandered between them both—green flashing with sorrow—but the grief that wished to shut him down was swept aside by childhood survival, and numbly, he followed after the dark wolf, already knowing the smell and taste of sap and pine would forever stir nausea in him.