Hideaway Strath I still press your letters to my lips.

Beneath the weight of his emotion, Sundance trembled. He whimpered softly, unsure where to go from here and how to even begin the hunt for his mothers or brothers. Although Atwood and Reif's relationship with each other was far stronger than any they shared with him, the thought of a life without them felt hollow.

He tried to curb the tears, bite them back by gritting his teeth, and peered up through the haze of them as his saviour spoke again. Sniffing, he was painfully aware of how ungrateful he likely appeared - all sobs and snot - and despite the overwhelming sorrow he carried, Sundance did his best to offer the most pathetic of smiles. "Thank you," he told her, genuinely appreciative of all she'd done for him this far.

He unfurled, squeezing his big sad eyes shut as he tried to hurry to his paws and felt his tired muscles stiffen, his joints ache. Still, he managed to shakily pull himself together. "I can try," he answered weakly, reaching out tentatively with an alabaster paw.