Horizon Ridge what do you feel before you think?

Unlike his barbed sister, whose mood seemed to deteriorate day by day, Svalinn had taken rather seamlessly to the Eyjolfur's pilgrimage; even daring to enjoy it, at times. He had lost all of the pack-fed plumpness he'd had back on the plateau, but his spirit remained effortlessly buoyant, and each day he would busy himself almost mindlessly until dropping like the dead each night beside Raleska. This life was almost natural to him, though he wouldn't understand that he had been conditioned to it long before he could remember. He didn't know that his unwavering acceptance of this life came from a trait he'd picked up in infancy: the ability to cope quickly with even the most radical changes around him.

Since Rosalyn and Erzulie had joined them, things had become noticeably easier for everyone, though Caiaphas still saw fit to find her independence from time to time. She had been on one such venture now—for what, the boy couldn't fathom. He came to greet her, thinking about how unfair it was that she always left, so he arrived in an already less-than stellar mood when he noticed that she was flanked by a rangy, hooded figure, that looked eerily similar to his mother.

He didn't make the connection. "That's nice," he huffed, sniffing a little in the young wolf's direction; "you found one that looks like you."