Morningside Cuesta ...a stone, a leaf, an unfound door

@Grezig

The wolves that had taken him in were not unkind. Illidan could not have said that they were cruel in any way or that they mistreated him. Quite the opposite, in fact; the pallid woman seemed to dote on him more than any of the other wolves that they had collected. The boy did not seem to care either way. He spent a great deal of his time stretched out against the sun, waiting for the day that he would catch the scent of his brother on the wind, or see the sandy figure trekking across the grass. Though he waited, Ephraim never seemed to appear. The glimmer of his yellow gaze still searched.
 
He had made a comfortable place against soft foliage on that day. His front paws were stretched before him with his shoulders tense and ready. Occasionally, the boy would swivel a single rusty ear at the sound of something in the distance. Illidan thought about returning the way he had travelled, but he could not recall which direction he had trekked from. Surely, his mother and father were worried sick about him too. Breathing a heavy sigh, the boy lowered his head to his paws and attempted to pass the fear that bubbled in his belly.