Blackfeather Woods the road ahead feels lonely

Slow, she tested his name. And soon it came in full. She knew his name. Now she would know his place.

Home.

A chuff, and he began to move, lifting himself until she was alone on the earth's floor.

Then a snort came, his muzzle focused in the direction of the lake. Home. He speaks, knowing she would understand, even despite how much he loathed it.

He did not proceed onward, veering an expectant gaze towards her. She would follow him home, or she would not. But either which she chose, he would accept only one answer.