Lone Star Mountain Talk to me, just one last time

Luna spoke of EaglePeak, the pack she had left behind. Like Luna, Taikon had also left several siblings at his birth pack. His younger siblings surely had risen up in his absence, since he had been the heir to the throne. He wondered if they were now complicit in the happenings in the Kingdom just as he had been. Taikon guessed that what had had happened to him had either been publicly spread on purpose to discourage such behaviour, or it had been hidden in secrecy. Perhaps his mother had used him as a symbol of what made the rebels dangerous, blaming his absence on the rebellion.
Perhaps Luna would be the sort to eventually start her own pack. She was young enough that he imagined she would be like other women. She would eventually want to find a mate and have children. It was a standard way of life that she qualified for, but he did not.
Tai didn't voice this to her. Women were often sensitive about such things, and while he knew she could take it, he didn't want to upset her. He sniffed, clearly the last of the snot from his nose. Some things are easier in a pack, he said gently. And others are harder, his voice was soft. He recalled what Takiyok had told him what felt like forever ago. She wanted to leave, but didn't feel she could. Taikon had found some solace in Whitebark, but when they left, things got even harder than they were before he had come to them in the first place.