Lost Creek Hollow tell me honestly.

Life had been quiet since Harlan had returned from then meadow with the sad news that Ilya had gone. It was exactly as she had expected and each day she thanked the gods for sparing her family. They had not deemed it time to return Luke to her, but the druid was patient. He would come home, one day, and there was nothing that would keep her from welcoming him back into the fold with open arms. She missed him, but it was a dull ache and did not plague her too often. Her focus was on her children.

It was a sweet thing, a mother being so attentive to her little brood. Except in Harlyn's awe it was almost something of an obsession. The pack had still not met them yet, and in truth, Harlyn barely knew who her pack even was these days. she held strong to the belief that they were her "family" and that she "loved" them, but save for Root and Lagon, she hardly even knew who they were. Her duties as alpha had been neglected entirely and it hadn't occurred that not only was that the case, but that it also left her mate to do all the work on his own. Her world consisted of the three little beings she had sacrificed her beloved friend for, and Harlyn owed it to the gods to make it so for they were the future keepers of her worship.

"Lark, not so far!" Harlyn called from her perch, curled at the mouth of the den. The boys were wrestling behind her, nut her daughter, ever the daring and defiant little woman, had crept out into evening to explore on her own. Harlan didn't mind; it was good for the children to begin getting to know the earth father. but they also needed to know their boundaries, which was something the honey-pelted babe was none too careful of. "No further than the log young lady," Harlyn warned with a darkening growl, which finally got the girl's attention. Larkspur turned and gave her mother a sullen pout, But crept back towards the den nonetheless and settles upon gumming the pinecone she had previously grown bored with. Harlyn could only grin at her.