Broken Boulder so deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me

tagging some who may want to hop in this, but AW for Bracken wolves
@Korei Julia @Xahi and maybe @Lily @Lanawyn

 

He was gone.
Alarian had been absent, too much to notice the scent had gone stale-- until he did, and the blood in his veins ran cold. Stiff-legged, wide-eyed, he had wandered the territory first with denial pulsing under his racing, fractured thoughts. It had been early morning then, and hope had still flickered dimly in his chest.
It was late now. The boy had combed the pack's territory, scoured the Bracken Woods as far as he dared-- he returned numbly now to his pack. He was disheveled and panting when he sent up the mournful howl, voice hoarse from spending the day calling after his love. Lennon is gone.
Had he left? Been taken? Killed, even, somewhere beyond Alarian's reach? When had he slipped so far away? The boy swallowed hard, choking back a sob. Ice had taken root in his chest now, growing with each possibility his mind conjured. He had to find him, he had to make sure he was alive and safe and happy and-- and--
Lennon. What had been intended as a shriek came out half-choked and breathy, and as if struck physically by the weight of his grief the boy collapsed. He breathed heavily, eyes hot and glazed with unshed tears and pupils dilated. For several moments he allowed himself the weakness of free thought, the relief of temporarily giving in to what he fought constantly, because right then it was all too much to hold.
I don't want him to be gone, he insisted desperately, stubbornly, to no one but himself. I don't want to lose him-- not him, too, please. He has to come back, it's not fair.

It was never, ever fair.