Jade Fern Grove crimson moss

Perhaps unlike his father, Pasha had wondered after his mother and siblings.  Up until then, the fundamental shift in the relationship of his parents had not dawned on him.  The grove had kept him distracted and busy, engaging him with all that it had to offer.  At night, he merely succumbed to sleep before giving pause to what was going on around him.  But one particular moment brought him a brief introspection that made him consider that things were terribly askew.

For a bit, whether it was one day or more he didn't notice, but he found the absence of his siblings to be interesting.  No Swift being glum in some corner moaning about what he hated.  No Allure to have to tag along for some misguided adventure in all things boyish gross.  Whittier was still Whittier in his eyes, forever chunky and whiny.  But there was silence lingering in the woods that day as he tried to seek out the remainder of his family.  Somewhere along the way he had spied and subsequently lost track of his father, and was plodding along in his tracks when his howl rose up through the dense wood.  That particular note he heard was one that Pasha would perhaps not forget for a while.  It was pained beneath its summons and that evidence was enough to spur him forward.

By the time he arrived on a grim scene, his aunt was there with a single question left in the air.  Curiously, he came forward only to stop short of the adults.  There was blood and plenty of it with no carcass left to be found.  Confused crossed him, as about the only time Pasha recalled seeing blood was whenever he had happened across another hunting, or perhaps in the moments when others shared delicious pieces of game they had brought around.  But this was more than he had ever seen before in one place, and the resulting trail left in its wake left him with mixed emotions.

"What's going on?" he asked, though his voice came out small and lost.

He hadn't quite put two and two together to get the four.