Redhawk Caldera junebug

He felt his courage melt, and his chin jigged as a wave of emotion flooded him. If she had been angry with him, he would have done anything to remedy it- and while she did seem relieved he couldn’t help but feel ashamed for having caused her to worry. His mother had already lost so much, and suffered so much when Bronco had died…The last thing she needed was for her reckless son to be such a pill.

She seemed willing enough to forgive him for going, as it was apparently the way with young wolves. He discouraged the notion with a shake of his head. ”No Mama…I’d never leave without saying goodbye, willingly,” He felt guilt curl within his heart like an uncomfortable tumour. He had left willingly- he had panicked and simply run off without questioning Anathema’s motives. 

He simply hoped she would believe him, and know that if he disappeared without a farewell, that it was not because he was being frivolous and thoughtless. He cared too much for his mother to simply wander without seeking her approval first. 

He wanted to give her answers, to prove he was worthy of her trust. ”Out off the coast…It wasn’t too far, she’d said. I was going to ask you before we went, but then she came back, and she was bloody and she said we needed to run-“ He cut himself off. His mother already knew all of this. He still had no idea why it was that Anathema had been in such a state. 

When she asked about the striped cat, his ears flicked back. He hated to think about it. Whale eyed, he swallowed hard. ”The day…?” He asked, choking on the words. ”I didn’t see it the day it…” it hadn’t been the day his father had died, but it had been the day that had determined his fate. ”Or when Anathema came running. I didn’t see it, I just…I just saw the blood and I just…I got scared,” He admitted, voice shaking.