Lone Star Mountain just a stoic statue, fit for a nobody

ezra had aged in their flight from rivenwood. she had taken him from his home, from druid, from the others; he had left a boy and now he was silent beneath the heavy moon.
raising chin from paws, she watched him with sorrowful golden eyes. he was a boy who had lost too much. what did he stand to gain now that she'd dragged him from the only land he had ever known?
"ezra." a moment and his mother was beside her son. "let's hunt. the birds are nesting. we'll climb."
up, up a thin alpine path.