Firefly Glen Two Kids, You and Me

It seemed that West wouldn't have to wait long after all, as a brown bullet streaked in his direction. For a moment, the woodland boy flinched as he leaned back to brace himself, too used to such a sight leading to the tearing of fangs. It wasn't until he heard his name on the wind, familiar and light that he allowed the hairs along his nape to relax. It's just Leta. A short sigh escaped him, just before his sister flung her body against his causing him to stumble back as she relentlessly bombarded him with greetings.

In some ways, it felt like nothing had changed. Leta was the same girl she was when they were kids, even after she had been attacked, even after Ursus, she hadn't changed. It was that familiarity that slowly chipped away at his dour mood as a grin worked its way along his maw. Unlike some of his past ones, this hadn't been faked for appearances, It's good to see you too Leta— Good for now. Good until he ruined the warm air his sister had brought. For a moment he reveled in it selfishly, taking in the moment to just feel normal and ignore the problems that trailed behind him like the rocks that spiraled out from Easthollow's mighty stones.

The trail of lost souls, is that what he had become? Unlike the stone that earned that name though, West only wanted to run from it. Forget the path that was left in his wake and never turn back, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't abandon his family, not like Newt, not like—

Clay.

His broad smile was wiped from his face faster than a blink, or perhaps it was never there at all. He wanted to see Leta, needed to, but he had no good news to spare. The boy's brows furrowed as he looked down to his sister and pressed a paw to her shoulder, hoping to ease her off and catch her attention, Leta, we need to talk... Compared to his greeting, his voice had dropped, a somber tone hinted at the back of his throat, and what he didn't outwardly say, his eyes would.