The Sentinels Boarfish

She just looked at him for a moment. Towhee now understood she couldn’t force his hand, though walking away from him was going to be one of the hardest things she’d ever done. It already felt like a betrayal to her daughter and son-in-law.

She took a breath, then provided detailed directions from here to the copse. Towhee tried to hold out hope he would actually listen and use them someday soon, though she wouldn’t hold her breath. She would have to relay the same to Meerkat, a conversation that would break her heart.

I hope you find her, Towhee said, though the real message was pretty damn clear: I hope you find her soon so you can come home. Please come home. Take care, Fish, she added, refusing to use his new name this time.

Just like she refused to turn or walk away first. She would stand here until he left, watch until he was gone, and only make her way back toward the copse with great reluctance. Constantly glancing over her shoulder in the hope he might change his mind.

This time, he didn’t correct her. He let the name Fish be used without protest, without rolling his eyes or tightening his jaw. The young wolf had never enjoyed that nickname. He preferred Swordfish to simply being called Fish. While he wasn’t the most muscular and fierce young man, he did feel that Swordfish gave him a manly edge to an otherwise floppy name.

Before he turned, the boy paused at the edge of the forest where he could look back on his grandmother’s worried eyes.

Will ya tell her… Will ya tell her I did it fer her? Ma… I killed it fer her.

Maybe she would be proud of him.

Swordfish turned, dipping his head toward the earth, and he slunk away. The darkness took him, shielding him from the memories of his family and the look- that damned look in his grandmother’s eyes as he walked away.