Stone Circle bubblegum wine

Unlike Aerasha, his life was a complete and utter mess.

Mawk was a broken man, who's joy had been snatched and shattered like glass at his paws -- the deaths that tormented his family lingered like dust in the crooks of his mind, shadowing his gaze and creeping up his spine; he'd spent many weeks lying beneath the stars, staring up at the sparkling dots of gold and white, wondering if his wife and son watched from above... his parents, too, and his siblings. All of them.

Then his only remaining son, Cyron, had showed up at the borders.

Cyron had always been a soul plagued with mystery and silence, ever since the terrible day he'd been stolen from the edges of the territory and plunged into the depths of the blackfeather domain. The scout had welcomed him back with open arms, and for the days following, his mood was lifted like a feather picked up by the wind -- the darkness would return, but for now he did his best to remain lively, for the sake of his kin and for the wolves of Easthollow. When he spotted Aerasha in the distance, the wolfdog sucked in a breath through his teeth and wandered closer, chuffing in greeting.