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Autumn had come to the Teekon Wilds. The forests had ignited with golds and patchy reds, the ground was covered in a thin layer of fallen leaves, and the biting wind of winter held fast to it's heels. Somehow the summer of plenty had become a great disaster for the Sveijarn family - none more affected than little Larus. The blitz attack by the lynx had been too quick to counter. That had been days ago though, and the hours were bleeding together for the boy.
He was lucky, in a way. Lucky to have escaped the angry mother before any true harm came to him. But this luck was balanced by the sharp pain of each step, for the cat had cut deep grooves in to his legs in her great reaching attempt to take him. A patch of fur between his shoulders was missing, with the skin puckered and red from her teeth. Larus didn't know how he escaped - he barely understood how he was taken to begin with - and thus it was with bewilderment that he now stumbled through the white-barked trees around him.
In the first day with the cat, he learned not to make a sound. The lynx was more irritable when he whined or cried for help, and would hold fast to the boy's scruff while carrying him. To avoid unnecessary discomfort the boy adjusted quickly. He remained stoic in the face of danger. Daddy will find me. He thought, in those first frantic hours when the action died down. Or mommy. Mommy won't let anything happen.
But nobody came. It didn't help that the lynx was so adamant about moving; she would either pull little Larus along by her teeth, carry him as he naturally tucked beneath her, or hiss and yowl and threaten until he moved on his own. It was a lot like the adventure to the glacier - except with a few fleeting glances, Larus had watched his new home dwindle behind him, until it was only a streak of white against the horizon.
And he was here now. Somehow. Stumbling through the trees on his way west, although he had no idea what direction was. Larus was aware of some very basic things: the hunger in his tummy, the migraine that pounded in his head, and the sensation of the rain as the sky began to sprinkle. The awe caused by the sudden rainfall was soon replaced by a new kind of unhappiness - he was soon too damp to feel any kind of glee when witnessing the rain. The drops touched upon the leaves within the great boughs above, lending a pale applause to the boy.
Almost like the trees were pleased by the company.