Sheepeater Cliff of an emotional landslide

Rian had been very withdrawn in the week following his breakdown. While he still attended to his duties, and saw to his brother's needs, he was frequently found on the fringes of their gathering looking out at the wilderness with little to say. He just needed time, and while he knew Rannoch and Cypress both respected that desire, he knew they worried, too. There was little he could do to reassure them, because he knew the callous would form and he would return to the wolf he was before. Or something close to it.

Today was hardly different, except when he saw Rannoch slip away. He was laying on a particular sunny patch when he spotted the young Alpha depart their camp. Rian knew he was always in search of the perfect territory; the perfect fit. The perfect solution to their growing problem. The pack was growing, which meant more mouths to feed, and a greater chance of unwittingly inciting conflict with the established packs in the region. The O'Malley feared many things, but most of those things were conjurations from the demons living in his head.

With a glance towards those who deigned to nap or relax at their rendezvous point, Rian rolled onto his paws and set off after Rannoch to ghost the young leader and see if he could be of any use. He kept his distance, well out of range of the burly gray scale wolf's senses (unless the wind was to change suddenly). 

It didn't. And as Rian finally made his approach to annouce himself to Rannoch, the breeze carried to him a scent that was by all rights familiar, but altogether offensive. He froze mid-step and turned his gaze upon the wolf that his cousin approached; pale of fur, with gentle brushes of tan and gold dispersed throughout the coat of the individual. He recognized that face, that smell, that wolf. 

Dublin. Returned from his adventure, or wherever his family had fucked off to—he didn't care much for the circumstances. All he knew was the sting of anger and hurt as he abruptly changed direction and walked boldly up to stand right at Rannoch's side. He wanted this to be a picture of unity and devotion—his only weapon against the hurts inflicted upon him time and time again by the broken family. 

His eyes flashed with disappointment as they regarded his brother. "I thought you were gone for good." He remarked cooly. Dublin had been withdrawn much in the way Rian had been in the short months leading up to his departure from Neverwinter, but Rian was not concerned with the past. What mattered now was why he was here now.