Dragoncrest Cliffs Diaspore

The first night or two of staying in the cavern had been weird. He found himself trying to stay close to Melchior or Tirgatao and do his best to stay out of the way. The three of them belong with their Heda as much as the others but their transition had yet to be approved, giving them the awkward feel (at least for Arlo) that he doesn’t dare indulge himself to speak of it.

When Arlo stirs from his nap, he blinks a few times around the cavern and the first wolf he sees is the white and black woman that snapped at him the other day. He stiffens his muscles and doesn’t move from his curled up spot and hopes, for a moment, that he isn’t noticed. He is still uncertain what happened—had he gotten too close?—but he didn’t get the chance to ask and he still would rather not bring it up at all.

However, he finds a new pull that slowly causes him to unravel once the world began to clear. His nose twitches and he draws a breath and there is something he can’t explain. He clears his throat after a moment but awkwardly glances away to avoid her glare.