Northstar Vale Lemon children! Go forth!

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He was wet, and uncomfortable. The feeling of dread lingered through the dream though; Titmouse was distracted by it, and didn't notice as Rian came slinking through the slumbering wolves to meet him. When he heard the whispered voice he visibly startled, sagging right, and stepped in the sinking warmth that had spread out from under him. The boy quailed next to Rian, ducking his head and swerving his gaze away with shame. The boy sniffled and blinked away the rest of the fog that cloaked him, and then admitted (more to himself than anyone else:) All my fault. The terror, the running, the injuries -- he glanced away and saw the adults sleeping around him, some with open wounds. The smell of blood mixed with the pine-fresh scent of the vale and the boy felt oh so small then. m'sorry.

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