Nova Peak foundling-bird

Because he had been raised to be neither seen nor heard, Thade did not howl for those he knew were close, even though he could feel the need for it deep inside; like the feeling of remembering a song you used to love, that you now dared not sing out loud. A memory too painful for a boy who had been conditioned not to express himself.
 
As much as he liked to think of himself as the same young wolf — unscathed by the memories inflicted upon him the last few months — it simply was not true.
 
His nose was buried in a frond patch, its leaves shivering off a thin dew-slush, when he heard what sounded like an animal locomotive coming towards him. He had barely lifted his head and registered the gunmetal blur, when he felt it crash into him, immediately clamping down hard on the back of his neck. He flashed back to when Mother had caught him trying to escape for the umpteenth time, and knew that he had been found out.
 
Thade yelped in surprise, and as pain dug into his consciousness, he tried to roll over and show his belly — beg for Mother’s forgiveness. He tucked his chin instinctively, and cried out for the only thing he thought might save him in this moment: Wintersbane! HELP ME!
 
The grip on him loosened suddenly, letting his full weight fall back to the ground, and leaving a sharp, stinging ache in its place.
 
“Thade?”
 
The boy went rigid, rolling stiffly to his side, as his hind leg remained cocked and supplicant. Too afraid to run, too afraid to even stand. His forested eyes bugged towards the face that regarded him, and the scars kept him from recognizing her at first.
 
But the scent she had left clinging to him was unmistakable. His nose began to wiggle of its own accord, and then everything clicked into place. Her perfume connected with the sound of her voice, which connected with the sunflower stare, that connected to the distinguishing mask — even if it had become torn. Mama? he sniffled, quickening to a sob. MAMA!
 
Thade scrambled into Wylla’s chest, remaining apologetically crouched as he played her a symphony of jubilant whines betwixt a litany of desperate kisses. His tail was also kept submissively tucked, but it thrummed back and forth like a sprung coil doorstopper. And as relief washed over him, slowly replacing the stench of fear, his posture lifted and strengthened; only so that he might persist in attaching himself to the Eisen, permanently, if he could.