Whitefish River name of the game

How many days had passed since Aurë said she would be back? Too many, thought Dragomir despondently as he hobbled along the river. It was slow going and painful, his hips stiff from disuse and his legs even moreso, but at least he was able to stand up and move again. The first thing he'd done when he was finally steady enough to walk on his own was go down to the river. It reminded him of Diaspora, and on its banks he found a sort of balm for his hurting heart.

He was worried about his mother, who hadn't returned … but he was also angry, believing firmly that she had simply left him for good this time, and so going to search for her hadn't crossed his mind. Not like he could even if he wanted to. He had no idea where she went and he could barely walk a quarter mile without being out of commission for several hours after. The dark specter of doubt in his head told him she probably wouldn't even want him to, and so he remained mired in negativity.

He was just heading back to his sleeping place in the thicket when Vercingetorix arrived, carrying a very welcome rabbit in his jaws. As Dragomir settled down nearby with several winces and grunts, he did his best to quell the saliva that pooled in his jaws and the rumble that pinched his gut. Things were scarce lately, even he had noticed that despite being unavailable to help with anything. Now more than ever he cursed his inability to help … by now he should have been helping to hunt, fill the caches, anything to earn his keep. He could hardly even walk right, let alone chase prey, and that frustrated him.

Hei, he greeted, swallowing the vitriol from their last meeting that threatened to crawl up his throat. Being angry with his father couldn't be a priority right now, not while Aurë was still missing. Vercingetorix and Isilmë were all Dragomir had. He couldn't risk alienating either of them by continuing to act like a prat.