Cerulean Cape We turn our headphones all the way up and we press play

Imagine a world in which thinking about something was enough to deposit it right in your lap. Absurd, right? Nothing was that perfect. Lucas thought so too, and yet here he was, thinking of his missing family, while his own mother observed him from afar. He was oblivious to her presence; Luc was certainly a perceptive young wolf, but only to things right in front of him. He wouldn't have noticed a pair of eyes watching him if they were burned into the back of his head. Perceptive, but not the sharpest, and with no reason to be cautious, he never developed that sort of wariness.

So Laurel's shout came out of nowhere as far as he was concerned. He spun around on his toes, a perfect little pirouette, in response to his name... and his heart swelled. Was it even possible? If there were gods out there, they'd seen fit to answer Lucas' prayers that day. He couldn't possibly mistake the she-wolf headed toward him; he saw her in the brown of his arms whenever he looked at them, and knew her to be the loveliest woman alive. With tail windmilling, he unabashedly called out, mama! even though he was a full grown young man now, with a young man's voice, because he was just far too excited not to lapse back into the mindset of a young boy as he sought to collide with his dam for a wolfish hug.