Stone Circle ilakka

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title: my family
@Kallik

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It had been many weeks since he had left Aningan. His uncle was finally able to manage without him, and so he had set off on the long journey back home. To his family, his friends. He knew his aunt would welcome him home, of that there was no doubt, but his siblings… they were a whole other story. He knew they were going to be upset, he could only hope that seeing him alive and well would ease some of the anger.

He had longed for this day, since he realized his father had no intention of bringing him back. Selamuit knew the reasons, now, not that his father had been the one to tell him. Did he agree with those reasons, Sela didn’t know. He had no children of his own. But there had been a time when he had hated his father for his decision. To abandon his other children, in the name of protecting them. Bullshit. No Sela had been furious. But that was long ago, and it had been many moons since he had last seen his father.

Now he stood on the outskirts of Easthollow territory, a broad grin on his lips. He approached gleefully, joyful in a way that had been forbidden for so long. But the lingering scent never grew. The barely there whispers of his pack were gone.

Slowly the smile slipped from his face, as he felt the air and listened to the earth.

Dread and discouragement lingered in the air. The sinking feeling he had felt for miles reached a breaking point. His senses had told him the rational, logical conclusion and yet he thought that just maybe the improbable was probable. Surely he had to be wrong. Easthollow had stood forever; since before even his father had entered the Wilds, his aunt even.

Yet now there was no refuting it. Easthollow stood no longer.

Selamuit slowly drifted throughout the territory. A pale ghost haunting the meadow of his birth. The resting place of his mother.

It was here that Sela found himself. Stood solemnly before the Pilgrim Stone.

It will be named the Pilgrim Stone to remember her remarkable life and to take wisdom from her growth.

He could still hear his aunt’s voice on that fateful day. He doesn’t remember much, but bits and pieces, the scent of cougar one of his earliest memories. Looking down sadly at where the stone met the snowy ground. He stepped forward, pressing his forehead against the stone, gently. As if his touch could break the rock that had stood for centuries.

”Anaana.” He whispered gently, barely louder than the breeze.

”Anaana, they’re gone.” His whisper broke. His family was truly gone. For once he was well and truly alone.