Honeyed Pasture the coldest story ever told

Constantine had not been home in weeks now – his fiery eyes cast toward the shores and the direction he knew the tall redwoods to rest, but he could not bring himself to check in with his sisters – not yet. He had hoped more fruition would have come from his departure during this time, but thus far it was not to be so – and instead, the ebony wolf could only hope that the forest thrived under the leadership and hopes of his youngest sisters.
 
Soon, he would need to inform them of where he was – and ensure himself they too were okay. Within the next day, he would go – seek them out.
 
The stretch of fields before him was one he wasn’t overly familiar with, despite having housed himself beside it for many months. Open lands had never left him confortable, for he had always felt vulnerable within them.. but now, instead of settling upon the plateau, where he truly belonged.. the Mayfair had went with Aria and Eilidh to a different mountain – and found himself among strangers once more.
 
If only his father was alive to guide him.
 
His eyes swept over the landscape before him and he forced himself to release a gentle sigh in hopes of relaxing his nervousness – this moment, once more seeking out Donnelaith was not about him – it was about his family. Yet when the form of a silver boy caught his attention – finding him a welcoming distraction. He spoke nothing yet – instead, his orange gaze followed the youth, watchful to where he might go to.