Lost Creek Hollow breakfast at tiffany's

The glade had been a refreshing place to linger, even in passing. It reminded him of his once-home, where his parents lived, and his siblings. Riordan often wondered about his family, but he knew he could never go back to them; it was not their way. Once dispersed, it was rare for a wolf to reconnect with their father and their kin - at least in his world - and so that made thoughts of home and of family, ultimately, a moot point. Perhaps that was why Rio had pledged himself to Mordecai and the others so readily. He had been alone for a year now (maybe longer, it wasn't like he had a calendar), and the camaraderie presented by a pack - and pack life in general - was appealing.

Still, as he sulked across Overture Downs and made his way towards home, all he could think about was the past. It was maddening, in a way. Riordan was not the kind of person to dwell on things like this, and doing so was truly making his mood sour with each passing moment. Soon enough the edge of the hollow presented itself upon the horizon - so he picked up his pace, ignorant of the other wolf even as he came careening by her.