Wapun Meadow traitor

he did not linger long in the north. the familiar sights became overwhelming, and when he reached whitebark stream, everything came crumbling down upon him once more. it was no longer settled, devoid of all old packmates. no dawn or artyom, no aphrodite. . .

aphrodite. perhaps his first love. where was she now? dead, like papaji?

surya entered the meadow once more with morbid thoughts on his mind. he had traveled deep into the flowers when he realized he wasn't alone. one—no, two. two wolves on the horizon, neither of them resembling the man who had comforted him before.

he stood off to the side, watching them with wary expression. time on the road had sharpened him, at least, pushing down the grief in favor of spatial awareness. that anything could lurk around the corner. . .

father. your real father.

and his brow came together, eyes narrowing, teeth clenched behind lips set in a taut line.