Golden Glade to forge a path into the marrow of the spirit

Owen hadn’t known what to make of the news when it was first broken to him and his sisters, particularly with that detached air of unreality hanging about over the whole thing. Others might wax nostalgic for the pack’s previous home, but Heron Lake Plateau was the only one he’d ever known in his relatively brief life. They couldn’t really be moving away from it for good, could they? And so disturbingly soon? He had to wonder if maybe they were going to have to roll Mom the rest of the way along the path they trekked there as it was. But obviously Raven was completely onboard with this relocation nonetheless, as she stood there orchestrating and delegating and generally quite happily acting the part of assertive alpha. Maybe if she’d seemed less cheerful and authoritative about all this Owen would have felt a little more comfortable. As it was, she seemed so thoroughly enthusiastic and prepared that Owen (who really felt like he could have used another month, or three! to get used to even just the idea) felt left out, like there was no space for him to have a voice in all this, and like his own discomfort and uncertainty would just get in the way of the pack’s determined steamrolling downslope to claim their new home.

He hung back, his feet and tail dragging a little, but voiced no complaints as the group soldiered onward with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Owen gave one spindly female a glance, noting her own reluctance and wondering if she was one of these new Frostfurs since she didn’t smell too familiar— but he saw her flashing teeth at another and rumbling more than once, so he gave her a wide berth and stuck instead to the safer shadow of his sister Phoebe in the main. There was another youngish male that piqued his interest a little, but seeing the boy’s displeased mien Owen didn’t presume to venture too close there, either. He didn’t want to make any trouble and upend things even more today of all days, after all. Mom (and Dad he supposed too, though he had yet to glimpse Qui in the small mob for sure as of yet) had enough on her plate right now, after all.

Owen stood there uncertainly with paws awkwardly akimbo, twitching an ear as he heard Rye speak up and offer to inform Towhee of the move. Almost Owen offered to guide him, but then the younger male hesitated again, biting his tongue as he looked furtively around for Dad. Owen wasn’t entirely certain if he was still supposed to be avoiding Aunt Towhee (and Poe! Who he presumed had scarpered off to join one of the other splinter packs...) for reasons still somewhat bafflingly fuzzy and mysterious in his head, or if his probation period was over now. ...Probably better to play it 100% safe though. It seemed strange to him if Rye of all wolves was going to be the one to go talk to Towhee, really, but whatever; Mom and Dad could deal with that however they saw fit. Owen instead opted to sidle up beside @Phoebe, after another long moment of glancing about in discomfort. Well, we’re here, I guess, he muttered, as much to himself as anyone, and then cleared his throat a little and said to his sister more audibly, Uh, hey there. ...You doing okay? Okay, actually, maybe that was kind of a stupid question. Owen didn’t really see how she could be okay with this sudden upending of their world. I mean, uh...are you hungry at all, or anything...?