Qeya River Twilight

Bitter tears stung at Darrow's eyes as Ksura came to him. There were tears in dad's eyes too, but of a softer kind. Darrow had dreamed of their reunion ever since he'd realized he was lost. Even now, he wished he could just throw himself into his father's arms and get lost in the reassurance that everything was okay, that everything was the same.

Instead, his eyes bit with fire and his voice was a knife. When Ksura stepped towards him, he took the same step back.

I got lost looking for Lost Creek Hollow, he said, like it had been a minor thing. Three days since he'd left Qeya River blurred together with incomprehensible clarity. They had changed him, shaped him, in ways he hated, in ways that had always been there, stewing beneath his innocence. But though the Wilds had hardened him, he's always known dad would have looked for him, and only given up when he realized he couldn't find him. It was why Darrow had never stopped looking. It was why he didn't blame Ksura for giving up.

But none of what dad said answered any of his questions, not in the ways he was looking for.

What pack, dad? his voice grew quiet. And where's mom?