Phoenix Maplewood laugh, cry, forget nothing and think many things of it

For a moment, it seemed like Ancelin would head off on his own, but then the boy turned back in a silent question. Aventus did not enjoy being alone in unfamiliar terrain any more than Ancelin did. It was likely the paranoia of years of following a madman father around, a man who saw monsters in shadows and gods in monsters.

So he took a step, then froze and pressed his ears forward. His expression morphed from tired neutrality to alert tension. He couldn’t resist two lashes of his tail to dispel it.

Someone, or something, was coming toward them.

A wolf, he realized, and made as though to step forward and shield his son from the newcomer, but Aventus recognized her at the same moment Ancelin did. Only, unlike his son, his only outward reaction was a blink and the faint pop of muscles in his jaw.

While out looking for Atreus, there were times Aventus played this scene out. It was always an imaginary conjuration. By now, he was certain his wife had perished. Nothing else would explain her prolonged absence from the Rise. Aves could not blame her for abandoning him — he had been a poor mate to her during her pregnancy — but it was much harder to convince himself she would abandon her children. It wasn’t unheard of for mothers to not love their cubs, and yet, Arielle had always held the warmth of a strong heart. It would be unlike her.

He could not bring himself to approach for fear that this was just another apparition. Ancelin took those steps for him, flinging himself at a mother Aventus wasn’t certain he would remember, leaving the dark wolf frozen in place while they reunited.

He could not even say her name past the cinching of his throat.