Hushed Willows by the color tv glow

By mid-morning it seemed that the majority of the wolves had left The Crook. Whatever it was that they favored to do, Mordecai hadn't entirely discovered. He wasn't exactly the quickest when it came to getting acquainted, as his own interests had been narrow and focused on his family. It was their absence that sent him venturing for them, though on this particular day he was more inclined to find his children. @Larkspur had been the last he thought to have seen, so it was her that he started to search for first.

The reason for this, of course, was a rather large branch that had fallen in the last round of poor weather that had come through. He carried it awkwardly between his jaws, not quite having a grasp on where its middle was. It had long shed the spindly, smaller branches from the limb and though void of leaves, it was still a strong piece of wood. If nothing else, he thought he could spark some matter of play.

the arcs — stay in my corner

Although she could never regret her trip to see Deirdre, it had taken a lot out of her. Already a big napper, Spur took to sleeping most of the day, every day, curled into a ball in her little corner near the doorway of The Crook if not snuggled up with one family member or another. The usual sleepiness ailed her this morning but it was too hot, loud and crowded inside the communal den, so the lithe pup slunk out into the daylight, walked in a random direction and curled up beneath the patchy shade of a regrowing shrub.

When Mordecai wandered by, a branch in his mouth, the little dewdrop—who was usually a fairly light sleeper (thanks, anxiety)—didn't so much as stir. She snored softly, utterly dead to the world.

He ventured by, oblivious, and carried on. But not too long.

Shortly thereafter, his steps carried him back to the most familiar of locales known—the cavern. It had some name to it, Harlyn had spoke it to him, but he had cared for it so little that he had simply remembered it for what it was. A gaping crevasse in which they surprisingly didn't have to sandwich and stack themselves to sleep. He snorted, clearing his senses long enough to force out the medley that was overlapping traces of this wolf and that wolf. The branch was left behind as he brought himself near to its entrance, though there was no reason to duck needlessly inside.

For a moment, a quirky smile found its way onto his face—he didn't blame her in the slightest for snoozing outside. It was his preference by a long shot, though depending on Harlyn (and the rest of the children by extension) he often surrendered his say in things. Already it seemed that far too much time had slipped away from them all; his children did not seem as small as they had been. But he did not dwell over the thought long, why waste more time? Reaching out to nudge her with his muzzle, Mordecai attempted to rouse her gently.

The instant something brushed against her, Spur startled awake, her typical wariness of the world at large kicking into overdrive. The sight of her father's face, coupled with his familiar scent, caused her to relax nearly as immediately. "Hi, daddy," she croaked in a sleepy voice, smacking her lips a little as she pushed herself into an upright position. She felt woozy, her head swaying slightly, although eventually she stilled.

Larkspur took a moment to blink the fuzziness out of her eyes and gather her bearings. Her gaze then wandered to the nearby branch. "What's that for?" she wondered, lips curving into a slight, weary smile.

She started at his touch and he wondered for a moment if waking her had been the wrong thing to do. It was her warm greeting that put that swiftly to rest, bringing him back to the main purpose of tracking down at least one of his kids. Her groggy smile prompted him to return one of his own as he stepped away, rounding back on the scraggy branch.

"This," he begun, nudging the branch with his foreleg, "is a little something I found for us to have fun with. Up for a little game of tug-o-war?" It wasn't some smelly old hide they could tear apart, but it would work all the same. If a storm had knocked it loose from on high, chances were the wood wasn't up for much of a beating.

It was meant as a plaything. Before, when they'd lived in the hollow, little Larkspur would have jumped at the chance to play tug-o'-war with her father. But so much had changed since then. The locusts had come; they'd left their home behind; they'd wandered the strange, barren wilderness for weeks; Mordecai had disappeared; and then they'd come here. And though her memories weren't all bad—her father had come back, after all—the pup's will to play had faded somewhat, right along with her energy.

Her smile took on a sad nature now as she gazed up at Mordecai. Despite how lackluster she felt about it all, she struck out a foreleg and shook it at the branch, nodding dimly. "Sure, daddy," she said, slowly standing and preparing to grab onto one end of the branch while he grasped the other.

i feel like larkspur is me irl... which apparently means i may be your dog according to stevie LOL

As she joined him and that smile turned sad, he found himself pausing. Concern laced his expression; this was not the reaction he had hoped for at all. Then again, who could really blame her? With all that they had been through, it was a wonder that any of them could muster the desire to rise and carry on through the day. Truly, he was lost as to how to pull her free from that funk and found himself hesitating.

"What's wrong?" Better question would have been what wasn't. Where had that momentary spark of happiness gone that he had just seen a few days prior? If that wasn't a sucker punch to just how much his children were growing up, he didn't know what else could be. No longer were they content with distraction from reality, and no longer could he shield them from the gravity of many situations.

Hahah, yeah, she's modeled off PC a bit. :3

Mordecai seemed to sense something amiss and Spur felt a stab of guilt for spoiling his attempt to have some fun. "Nothing, daddy. I want to play," she fibbed. Actually, she did want to play, she just felt like she might fall over. Really, it would be no contest. "I'm just tired... and hungry..." And she really, honestly hadn't meant to rain all over her father's parade like this but suddenly Larkspur's lip was wobbling; and her eyes grew misty; and she felt an absolutely exhausted sob clawing its way up her throat...

I want to go home, she thought, her inner voice a keening wail, yet she bit her lip against saying it out loud. Her parents had left Lost Creek Hollow for a reason, even if it wasn't clear to their children, and there was no use crying about it now. It was done. And, sincerely, the last thing Spur wanted to do was make her daddy feel bad, so soon after showing up here in the Keep. Although that thought alone sent another wave of guilt through her, wrenching a second sob loose.

It was the briefest of quivering lips that urged him to come forward and pull her close to him. Her sadness served as a painful reminder that things were still far from edging their way back into normal. He found that he hated the uncertainty of the future and how unfair it seemed. Things had never seemed so rough to him in all his years until this particular one; anything that had ever been a stressor in his past was minute in comparison. He shushed her soothingly, choosing to run his tongue against the crown of her head. What a mess all of this was, and he scarcely knew what he could do to fix it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured.

There was no third sob, as it turned out crying was just as exhausting as anything else and Spur simply didn't have the energy to spare for it. She made a breathy sound when her father gathered her in his arms and placed a comforting kiss on her head. She still felt horrible for ruining this moment, even wincing ever so slightly at Mordecai's apology.

"It's okay..." she said uselessly, cuddling closer to him and ignoring the painful twinge in her gut, which was accompanied by an absolutely savage growl that seemed to go on forever.

He heard it then, that long discouraging growl that could have only followed hunger. If it could have, it would have likely tempted the hunger that he felt as well, that persistent gnawing, aching, and churning burn to join. But this time it did not; either he had grown accustomed to their slim pickings or simply betrayed the thought that he was ever hungry at all. With the latter unlikely, Mordecai chose to change his plans.

"Maybe we can see if we could find something to eat," he suggested. "There's a stream nearby, isn't there?" Fish came to mind as being something the insects hadn't destroyed, if only for the fact that they didn't seem to favor water. Perhaps if they could have they would, though it seemed unlikely that the annoying creatures would have taken flight with fish in their grasp.

Of course, the mention of food piqued her interest, even if Spur felt like she barely had any energy left. She nodded her head, then immediately shifted gears and began shaking it in response to his question. "I dunno," she admitted. She didn't think there was, though she hadn't actually spent much time exploring the territory. Larkspur tended to hunker down in The Crook and watch time (and wolves) pass her by more often than not, especially lately.

The idea that there might be, though, put a bit of pep in her. Nothing would ever compare to Lost Creek Hollow but she missed the territory's namesake landmark more than anything and would love to discover something similar around here. Slowly, the pup rose onto all fours to indicate she was ready to accompany Mordecai wherever he led her.

my bad on holding this up, i totally thought i replied to this the other day. now i realize i just closed the window ugh. D:

Though she may not have known whether or not there was a stream to be found, Mordecai held onto the certainty that there had to be. He thought he had seen one at some point, perhaps one that he had passed with Harlyn when she had first brought him to the cavern. He followed Larkspur's rise, shifting his gaze away from her and to the features ahead of them that he could make out. It took a moment of pinpoint where he thought their best guess should be, but when he had determined where that was it was easy to set off.

Taking on a pace that was more for leisure (and perhaps not to wear them both totally out), Mordecai followed the gentle slope that lead them away from the cover that the rocky outcroppings provided them. Some indeterminable time later came the sound that he was searching for—bubbling, running water.

No worries, I took just as much time. ;)

He began to walk and she fell into step beside him, her head even with his shoulder blade. He kept a slow, even pace that didn't add much to her exhaustion, though Larkspur still felt an invisible weight on her young shoulders. Leaving their home had been hard, being thrust out into a scary wilderness savaged by insects and famine had been harder and trying to pick up the pieces and resume some semblance of a life in a new place was the hardest of all. Now something about that field trip seemed to have sucked the last of the life out of her, even though it had been worth it to her.

Unaware that she'd gotten lost in her thoughts, Larkspur stopped the instant that familiar sound touched her ears. She held her breath, the better to hear it. She wasn't sure how to describe it—it was similar to the sound of wind rustling through the treetops or the soft susurrus of rain—or the feeling that blossomed within her. It made her yearn more than ever for Lost Creek Hollow. It made her overwhelmingly happy and sad at the same time. Her throat and chest felt tight and tears swam in her eyes, which she turned questioningly upon her father's face.

i was torn whether to keep writing here or leave it where i felt a natural ending... and i eventually opted for the latter. /shrug >_>

As they surveyed the babbling rush of the stream, Mordecai had already started considering where it was that he would find a prize meal. He wasn't particularly a fisher by default, but he had learned. In that search it brought out a passing thought of where he may have found Luke at any given time, and hot on its heels was a sour thought he felt he needed to seek to drown soon. He distracted himself, his gaze tore away from the waters to rest on Larkspur. Only once more, he found her teary-eyed expression gave him further pause from simply continuing on.

For a moment he thought he understood what he saw in that gaze. Truthfully he didn't understand it fully—he was far too nomadic to hold attachment to any specific place. But it was not much of a jump to connect memories together, and he still recalled one where all of his children had wanted more than to go back home. Words eluded him for a moment, so he gave her a simple kiss at the crown of her head with no sure way to know if it conveyed that he understood.

Since we have a more current thread, I figured this was a good place to call it a wrap? :D

Her father's snout touched against her head in a comforting kiss and Spur's eyes closed momentarily, the pressure of the shut lids squeezing out two little tears that tracked down her pale face. When she reopened them, she turned to face the babbling brook. She forgot why they were here, that her father saw the water as a food source. The youth drifted toward the water's edge, coming to stand over a calm runoff, a pang passing through her when she leaned over and saw her reflection.

Larkspur didn't recognize herself. She stared for a long beat, then drew back. Her exhaustion caught up to her and she let herself flop down beside the water. She sensed Mordecai nearby, attention likely divided between fishing and keeping an eye on her. The pup fell still, letting her head drop onto her outstretched forelegs, simply gazing at the creek and pining for home, at least until sleep stole over her.