Bramblepoint You hold onto me, and I'll hold onto you

Mason did take note that Steady – whilst providing a different option for how they would approach the ‘knock at the door’ – still asked for his young nephew’s opinion. He was fast becoming the favourite uncle, and a role model for Mason to look up to. Someone like his Dad in a way, but also youthful and still down with the kids.

Mason nodded enthusiastically, still hyped up from being so far from home. Luckily homesickness didn’t even seem an option at this point. “YeOOoah, that’s a good idea! Then they won’t be grumpy, hopefully.” Mason grinned. He looked around. They were safely far enough from the borders that no wolves should bother venturing out to see what they were up to even if their scent drifted in on the wind. A kilometre or two away as the crow flies. Behind them ranged the first line of guardian trees back into Bramblepoint, straggling on the borders against a backdrop of thick canopies. 

“Look, we’ll go back to one of those big trees, then we get outta the wind!” Mason waited for affirmative before bounding back towards the trees with boundless energy. He had always found nooks and hidey holes at Silvertip and this forest was much more of a wealth of such places than a sparse mountain. He dived in and out of the nearest trees once he reached them, making sure Steady was nearby, until he found a nice cross of two tree trunks and a few bushes – they could nestle snugly between them with little likelihood of wind or rain touching their fur.

He stood by his find and called his Uncle over.