Whitefish River Feel it still

he heard his name.

dad —? no, no. it didn't sound like dad. it was so loud, and different somehow — then echoed by a far more feminine voice that absolutely did not sound like mom. good, he thought with childish petulance, casting a glance behind him at his weirdo companion who he'd come to appreciate purely on the basis of them not being either of The Abandoners. @Buzzard wasn't exactly nice, or fun to be around, or —

okay, actually, buzzard kind of sucked.

it suddenly occurred to him that maybe whoever was calling him would be better company. they were calling his name, after all — so that meant they wanted him, right? he scrunched his face, thinking hard on the pair of voices that had materialized in the role he'd expected of his mother and father. well... maybe they were his parents. his new parents! mom and dad didn't want him, so maybe someone else had decided to take up the mantle.

that thought sent him running before he even decided to run, leaving buzzard in the dust. HI, he yelled as he ran; not the most appropriate greeting, but then, the feminine voice hadn't actually clarified what he was supposed to call out, and that was the best he had. peregrine was not a creative child. a bit advanced in his capacity for conclusion-jumping and unfounded resentment, perhaps, but thus far incapable of creating much other than imagined slights and scenarios of abandonment. right then, all he could think about was how he hoped his new mom and dad would be better than the last. maybe they'd take him back to the island.