Qeya River dignity broke the fall.

he’s wide-eyed, still doesn’t back away – looks curious, if anything, with the tilt of his head. doesn’t turn tail and run – hasn’t learned what he should fear yet. necessary lesson, but borya won’t be providing it. draws plenty of lines already: scaring kids is one of them.

she’s hardly a fan of wolves. still feels she should offer something. rain’s coming down, probably harder soon – hasn’t let up in near a week – no pack out here, even with scent all washed out in the rain.

the pup flattens himself against the dirt, doing his best not to be noticed, wet and muddy. voice trembles when he speaks. sympathy kicks somewhere in her chest. memory of her own kids, maybe. not just wolf cubs that get lost.

borya sighs.

“you have them, though? know where they are?”