Fox's Glade [m] porcelain

His work consumed him, along with his thoughts. How was he to bring the children of Easthollow home, if they had all been killed or scattered to the winds? He thought of Clary -- but surely, she had her own family now. Keen, he had not seen Keen in many months. Steph and Ezra he had only really heard of in stories. And what of Greyback's children? Siarut and Nanooks? They were all gone, save he and Kallik, and there was no way Merrit could ever bring them back --

A chuff interrupted him, and he turned with a slight raise of his hackles, only to lower at the kind face who met him. A woman he had never seen before, warm and friendly in her approach, and bearing scents altogether foreign to him... quickly, he dipped his head in apology, though his eyes still betrayed a guarded sense of uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," he offered, "you startled me." There was a sweetness about her that he couldn't quite place, and he thought this was an odd thing for him to notice upon first meeting. Odder still, the nerves that seemed to shake him. He caught how her eyes drifted to his paws and he understood what she was asking. In a way, she reminded him of his aunt Nanook.

"Arlette," he blurted out, before he realized what he had said. Stupid. He bit his lip. "Uh, my sister. We buried her mate here. It's... been a long time since I tended his grave..." why was he saying so much? And about something like this, to a complete stranger. Stupid. But something slipped, and the words just came.