Porcupine Ridge everything's a lie

Vigilant, she stood. Unmoving—the time passed, and while she had believed it to be a useless endeavor, she knew she had to try. She couldn’t go far—but, for those she cared for, she knew she would do everything she could.

And so surprise flitted over her soft features at her name being whispered—her muzzle sweeping to the brush where two navy eyes peered at her. Antigone! Relief swept through her, and she felt the tears spring to her eyes because of it—and a laugh escape her, despite nothing about this situation holding any amusement. Emotions were a funny and raw thing.

“Antigone, you’re not a fugitive,” she murmured, lifting a paw to wipe at her cheek before she moved toward him, hoping he could be coaxed from hiding. “Everyone is desperate to make sure you’re okay and safe.” She tiptoed closer, her muzzle sweeping lower to the snowy ground—honeyed eyes seeking out the angst of a teenager—knowing her voice cracked with the emotion she felt.