Sun Mote Copse Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger

After the meeting had dispersed that evening (details of which I am going to withhold for now) Wraen had given Niamh and Finley time and space to mourn. Colt's life-timer had stopped that fateful evening, but the rest of the world kept ticking. Kids needed to be fed and educated, borders needed to be checked daily, trails needed to be followed and hunting grounds inspected. Wraen's paws were full and she was glad for the work she had, which put any other unpleasant thoughts at bay. It was easier to enjoy one day at a time than to worry about a distant and unclear future. 

She was returning from an earlier tracking session with Elfie at her side. The boy had shown keen interest (he had pushed and pressed and nagged her for weeks until she yielded for the peace's sake) in seeing the big guys and had been properly impressed by the numbers of the herd and the sheer size of the individuals. Boy's pride and I-can-do-it-all attitude was humbled for a while. So much even that, when Wraen spotted Niamh and wished to talk with her in private, she did not have to fight off the boy's company as a sticky gum on the boot-sole. He agreed immediately, rushing home, eager to boast to everyone, what he had seen outside. 

"Good morning!" Wraen greeted Niamh from afar and, when she came closer and saw, what had mishapen her packmate's form from afar, she added a bit more. "Eventful patrol, huh?"