Duck Lake spare me from this limbo

In Lasher's company it was easy to think that joining him at the plateau was the thing to do, but away from him and the spell that entranced Luke when he was near the handsome Beta, it was a far more difficult choice to make. He cared deeply for Harlyn, and could not bear the thought of letting her down, and still, despite everything, held a hope for her pack. Frustrated, torn, and restless, he was about to rise and head straight for the plateau and the druid that dwelled there, when he saw someone familiar approach: FitzDutiful of Silvertip Mountain. Their encounter had been brief, but Luke remembered.

"Ahoy!" He returned in greeting, standing and wagging his tail, appreciative of the distraction the man provided. "No, not yet," he chuckled. This one was a determined recruiter if nothing else. "I am however promised to one that has not founded, just waiting on the call from—" he stopped abruptly, as past Fitz' shoulder he spied yet another form quickly approaching. "...her." He whispered, stunned, and in that moment forgetting that until now he had shared with no one whom he waited on, who was intending to form their own pack.

Harlyn came right to him, pressing her head to his chest. Immediately, Luke embraced her as best a wolf could with a lifted foreleg, and brushed his muzzle between her ears. He grinned excitedly. Finally, it must be time! Why else would she be here? His surprise gave way to sheer joy as she kissed his muzzle. "Harlyn!" he barked happily, finding his voice again as his tail swung wildly. "Are you ready now?" The bright hopeful expression on his face could not be missed.