Golden Glade Amaaaaaaaaaaaazing Grace, How Sweeeeeeeeet The Sound

feel free to skip thorn :)

Hawthorn was sleeping - or at least, he was pretending to do so when his mother spoke. He listened, but did not move, deciding that that he didn't want to gather with his family and the pack simply because he wasn't in the mood to interact with them. But as he opened a blue eye and caught sight of the glance that Rose threw him, he debated whether or not to leave the den. Hawthorn was nothing if he was not stubborn, and so he watched with narrowed eyes and a fierce expression as they all departed form the den.

Several minutes later, he rose onto his paws and padded out, albeit almost reluctantly. He caught up with the rest of the group soon enough and silently crept behind the larger wolves, slithering through the narrow gaps until he made his way to the front where he could see everything clearly, but was also sort of hidden from everyone else. Hawthorn remained silent as he observed what was going on, eyes roaming over the various wolves before landing on the one that was still as stone. Something was wrong he could tell.

He disobeyed his own rule on remaining quiet and spoke up, his voice low but surprisingly clear. "If she not alive," he began, blue orbs wide, "what is she?" He wanted to know what the official word for 'not alive' was, because surely it couldn't be 'nolive'. "What happened?" he continued to question, the words pouring from his maw relentlessly. "Why she like that? What did this?"