Stone Circle Helvegen

The short hours of the afternoon soared by like the brightest summer day, even though it was very much winter. The day's persistent drizzled dripped from Kaito's fur, and he shivered with a subtle, ever constant tremble from the cold, but Kaito hardly cared, too wrapped up in the exhilaration that came with every question Arlette braved to ask, about healing, about medicine -- and sometimes, off-handedly, about himself. The latter always came as a surprise, but one that spread a welcomed warmth through his chest. The only close relationships he'd ever had with wolves his age had been with his brother and sisters. Having someone his age to talk to, and someone who wasn't obligated to care or even listen, was wholly new to him. He didn't entirely know what to do with this, but he knew he looked forward to every new moment the One gave him to spend with her.

Except, maybe, this moment, because when Greyback's voice smacked the misty air, Kaito flinched, for a moment absolutely certain the Patriarch was coming for them. But Arlette was already moving forward, beckoning him with haste, and though his fears subsided, he hesitated. Easthollow was similar to Chandor in many ways, except for the ways it was not. His early memories of meeting Chandor's Matriarch were pleasant and filled with great wonder and love. His only experience of Greyback was peppered with dread, and the uneasy certainty the elderly man was probably quite out for his head.

Anxiety twisted every step he took after Arlette, and only piqued when they entered the gathering. Kaito would have liked to have entered the Stone Circle from different quarters of the forest, but he imagined Greyback would be suspicious whether they showed up together or not. Here, the air cracked with tension, and the shadows that crawled through Greyback's voice cast the sun's subtle glow in an ominous light. He sensed the eyes of those around him shift to observe the others -- and himself stole a glance at Arlette, his own eyes wide and ripe with confusion, and hers quite the same. There was no comfort to be found, and when the Matriarch tore away, he felt his friend's presence shrink by his side, felt her nose to his shoulder, and caught her pale form forging a berth between them.

His heart sunk. Some lifted their voices, others only whispered. Many kept silent, but even their silence spoke. Kaito had never met Vespera, and knew nothing of her but in the words Greyback shared, and in what his boys said, in their rally to dispute her sentence. He feels deeply for her nonetheless, for her crimes, as unflattering as they are, remind him of his brother, whom his family had always been so patient with, and so willing to forgive, and to help. Where was he now? And where would Vespera go?

Yet his thoughts were not entirely with the girl. Deep dread clawed roots around his stomach, tying him up in knots. Even with the distance Arlette put between them, he knows Greyback's eyes will always be upon them, and he wonders, how long until the Patriarch demands him to stop spending time with his daughter? How long, until that stubborn flame he has always soothed sparks up, and Kaito is not able to obey? How long before the mark of exile is scrawled upon his head?

At this rate, only a matter of time.