Stone Circle That you'd smile

A few weeks.

Just a few weeks to get through and then his family would acquire some new members to it… the thought made him feel weird. The entire situation left him with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, really. His sister was pregnant, she was going to have her own little family. Despite their rough beginnings, she’d made it out just fine, then even went so far as to turn around and make a real life for herself. Although Xan never even considered the possibility of someday being a father—pups were messy, and he just couldn’t see himself as being father-material—he couldn’t fight off the ounce of jealousy that had crept up on him with the greatest stealth. Unnerved, he swallowed a few times whilst nodding, having nothing to say but not wanting her to think that she’d been ignored. There, he dropped the subject, unappreciative of whatever it was that was causing such a storm within his mind, chest, and stomach all at once.

Collecting himself, he muttered a monotone, “Yeah, I guess I could have,” when his disappearing act was brought up. A part of him wanted to explain why he’d left, to spill all of his secrets and shames, but a greater part forced him to hold his tongue. It was a difficult task that became easier only after he was then asked something, the details of his future seeming far more important right then than anything else. “I don’t,” he stated, frowning at the realisation. “I haven’t really started searching for followers just yet… I’m not even sure where to begin, in all honesty.” Was he just supposed to wander around in search of lone wolves and ask them if they wanted to join him, or was there some sort of secret to obtaining followers that he needed to know? Having never been the most social of wolves out there, nor having overseen any recruitment missions in the past, he was at a total loss. Suddenly, a task that had seemed so simple in his head became the hardest code to crack. And, had her next words not struck the emotional barriers that he’d erected so long ago, he likely would have sought out her advice.

Frowning, he gritted his teeth and did all else that he could to keep from snapping at her, letting her finish. Everything in him insisted that he argue with her, that he counteract her points with some bullshit lies that even he hardly believed. The more he listened, however, he realised that she didn’t have the full story; from what she did know, though, she was right. Alexander had vanished without so much as a goodbye, acting just as selfishly as he was so accustomed to. No more, he decided, choosing—for once—the truth over excuses. “I didn’t forget about you,” was his first declaration, peculiar eyes seeking out her own. “I left Blackfeather for a reason. I’m… I’m not ready to share that with you, but I will say that, when I left, I felt I could only because of Sriracha and Ocra.” It was the first in a long time that he was able to say either of their names, still angry and hurt by their decision to abandon him. “So when they disappeared and just left me behind like I was nothing, I didn’t know what to do,” he continued. “I was lost. I didn’t feel safe anymore, so I ran. I didn’t think about you or anyone else, I only thought about how far I could go to get away—and I went far.” Perhaps he should have stopped to consider his options back then, then maybe he would have found some sense of safety there with Desna, but he hadn’t; he doubted whether or not he even could have.

“I went to the coast, and there I was reunited with an old friend—my first and only friend, actually.”—it still pained him to talk about her, believing that her fate was his fault—“I felt like I wasn’t lost anymore, so I followed her. I promised to protect her and then we joined a pack together, and then I let her down.” It felt to him as if someone had driven a knife deep into his chest, and then proceeded to twist it with each word that left his mouth. Yet, he continued anyways, needing to get everything out. “I loved her more than anyone, but I still let her down,” he croaked, then quickly cleared his throat thereafter in an attempt to hide the shakiness of his voice. “You, dad, the valley—you’re all I have left now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving again.” The valley was his home, the only place where he could thrive, and she was his sister. To think of leaving again… he just couldn’t.