Phoenix Maplewood that the vicious cycle was over

ezra is met with a wave of deja-vu, being met with the same answers and the same questions. no, what do they look like? and wonders if he'll ever be met with anything else. it whittles away at the hope that keeps burning in his chest. each time, that flame gets a little smaller and smaller as if being starved of oxygen. still, somehow, it holds on.

the gentleness of the other man's voice makes him feel small ... and he immediately hates it, despite that ezra can recognize it as kindness. it's what keeps the instinctual frostbite out of his tone as he replies, a month. almost two, now.

my father is ash grey vith dark grey markings. his eyes are gold like mine. his left and right ears are torn. one of them is in half ... and he has an accent like mine. even if that statement was in fact reversed and ezra picked up his father's accent as it'd been anselm's first. and my brother is dark grey vith light grey markings. gold eyes like mine ... and two tails. you vill know them when you see them.

it helps, he tells himself, that they have distinctive markers like that. there would be no mistaking either of them if any of the wolves he and his mother had met and inquired about them to did come across them.

uh, not any place in particular, ezra admits, a bit sheepishly. ve're making a circle around then taiga and the valley. but i cannot say ve vill stay there and not move on into other regions if ve don't find them...

it was a complicated situation all around.