Lost Creek Hollow stumble in, fight the spin

All are welcome, but tagging @Terance @Arbiter :)

He had been content, once; he had once felt secure within the pillars of Easthollow. He knew, of course, that the stones did not protect them, but the stones had always reflected what his family was, their solidarity, their strength, their tenacity. The stones had always reflected his family, but had they ever reflected him?

No one had shrunk in the face of Leta's attack except for him. Even the newcomers to Easthollow had charged their perpetrator when Leta had been tossed aside. Valette, and Greyback, even Vespera had sought to guard his fallen sister. Everyone had done their part.

But Merrit could still see the deer-eyed stare of his sister as she had soared through the air, could still feel the press of the grass against his skin as he'd collapsed to the ground while the world spun about him. He could still envision her still against the ground. He hadn't caught her; he hadn't helped her; he hadn't caught or killed the wretch who had assaulted her. He hadn't even landed a blow. He had simply froze.

He had done nothing.

The border of Lost Creek Hollow ranged before him, strongly marked, and largely unfamiliar. His mother had directed him toward this forest many suns before, but he had only remembered her charge to him now. Healing, caretaking; he wished to learn, he needed a teacher - tired though he was, he reminded himself that this was what he wanted - and these wolves would be his first try at finding someone who knew. Healing would help his family the most. But even as he tipped his head to request an audience, he knew they needed so much more.