Emberwood we used to shake the beehive

Athens rested by the side of a small brook, the fur of his maw still damp from his recent drink. It was a sunny midmorning, with only partial cloud-cover, but beneath the evergreen canopy the pale wolf was cast in shadow. It had been a long night. Unable to sleep, he had traveled off and on instead, but now it seemed that exhaustion had caught up with him.  Despite his weariness, his mind remained loud with thoughts of his siblings: worries for their well-being, doubts about whether or not he had a chance of finding them. He was not certain that Reverie and @Tybault would accept his presence even if he did manage to locate one or both of  them. Athens had never been Tybault's favorite brother; he knew this. And Athens had no idea what was going on with his pale sister, for the manner in which she had departed was strange to him. 

He rested his head between his front paws and closed his eyes, though he dared not hope for sleep. Instead he relished the feeling of the soft, cold earth supporting his tired body, as the brook babbled pleasantly beside him.