Hushed Willows we're stuck in slow life.

Hoping for @Silas but all welcome! :D

Harlyn strode quietly through the willow trees. The daylight was beginning to wane in the late afternoon, leaving the space beneath the dangling fronds glowing softly with gold. Moments of appreciation for the beauty of the Keep came and went as she walked, for just as soon as her mind wandered from it, she grew to worry again for her family's current predicament. Whatever she decided, Harlyn was not yet well enough to travel, and to continue to fret over the situation could yield her nothing. So she walked, and searched for her son.

She knew that @Silas had been spending a good deal of time hunting with the pack whenever he could, and so it made sense to her to head towards where she had heard prey could be found. His scent lingered in the leafy fronds that stretched from the ground, so Harlyn felt she was coming close. She knew well that her ability to track down his exact location was quite lacking, and so eventually she paused to tilt her head back, sending a low, summoning call through the willows.

Hours spent tracking something seemed to pass a bit easier. On the hunt, he noticed all the absence just a little less, and on the tries when success burst warm upon his senses, it was worth it just a little more. He too could feel himself starting to get a little better, or at least it was progress somehow. He missed less. His trails went warm instead of cold more often. But this still didn't feel like it could amount to enough. Not yet.

He was spending his afternoon scoping down familiar paths beneath the willows, and soon, he found himself beginning to anticipate the dusk when he might be able to creep on a few deer he's seen before, but otherwise, his focus is widespread because he still searched. It's something he's used to. However Harlyn's voice stops him and his ears quiver up tall. Rabbits, deer, pheasants, any and all of it that he may be looking to put his nose to take a step back. He wasted no time adjusting course to jog himself right to her. When he slows, it's only once he saw her, and his lean frame glided down submissively, then forward to lick her chin happily. "Mom, hi," he greeted when he pulled away, readily falling into step beside her now that he was done with that.

Undeniably, he is filled with joy to see her up and traveling around more finally. She's been down for so long that he'd started to get used to it being that way -- as much as he hated to. Worry hovers around there too, because he is still massively uncertain, and he reminded himself of it when he started to wonder why she's called him.

He could have wallowed, now that Tambourine was cognizant enough to realize how long his mother had been gone and how much he missed her. But that wasn't really his style. Instead, the boy preoccupied himself with searching endlessly for Tavi, sticking his little nose in every nook and cranny in and around the Keep. So far, he hadn't found so much as a trace of her, yet he didn't let that discourage him. Searching gave the youngster something to do other than sit there and miss her terribly.

After a long afternoon spent combing the territory's southern border, Tambourine trotted back toward The Crook to grab something for supper. He was going through a growth spurt, his body leaner and his legs longer, and he tripped over himself a few times. But like with everything else, Tambourine didn't let it slow him down. In fact, he tumbled through the willows at breakneck speed, giggling whenever he stumbled and nearly broke his face.

When a twisted willow root was added to the mix, though, the pup actually face-planted, hard. Not only did he get a nose full of dirt, one of his upper canines pierced right through his bottom lip. When he lifted his head and shook it, blood went flying. The pup blinked and pushed himself upright, tonguing the new hole in his mouth and tasting the salty, bitter fluid. The wound stung but he couldn't leave it alone, even when he heard familiar voices just on the other side of the treacherous tree.

*gathers all the puppies*

Harlyn was quiet as she awaited Silas's arrival. She was quite pleased with herself when it proved to not be too long of a wait for it meant she hadn't done too terrible of a job tracking him down. The feeling passed quickly enough to make room for the simple pleasure of being in his company. Her tail waved gently at her haunches as she reached to sweep her tongue affectionately across his crown. As she often did, the druid paused to marvel that she didn't need to lean down anymore to do so. He was as tall as she was those days, and soon enough he would be joining her in the adult ranks as well.

With a pang, she wondered how tall Pippin had grown now for surely he had gained a bit of height himself in the past few weeks. Larkspur too.

Harlyn pushed the thought aside.

"Hello, little one," the druid crooned in spite of her train of thought regarding his height, "Are you well?"  She looked him over with the unreasoned concern only a mother could justify. There was no real reason for him not to be physically fit, except for the emotional turmoil life pressed upon him.

Harlyn was too intent upon her son to truly register the sound of Tambourine's crashing in the brush nearby. Only when she caught the metallic scent of blood did her features perk and she turned to look downwind from where they stood. She didn't move just yet, but paused to breathe in the air until she realized that Tam's odor lingered there as well.

Happily enough, he basked in her affections and the warmth he felt from her company alone. He could cherish simple moments like these, although there was still so very much missing. He had to enjoy what he did have, not the losses, and not the what should have been because simply, it was not.

Silas grinned sheepishly, for in truth, he did not feel like much of a little one anymore standing about equal with her. 

The gentle wave of his tail slowed steadily. "Um, yeah. I'm okay. Just waiting for it to get a little later.. so I can track the deer again," he replied, lifting his narrow shoulders in a dismissive little shrug. He felt somewhat guilty about this admission deep down. How could he be 'okay' when his father and his entire litter beside himself were lost to the winds? And he was not out searching himself?  "Are you well?" he turned back onto her, and let himself glance towards her wounded leg for a split second in silent gesture. He knew she'd known about him worrying over that. Now that she was seemingly doing much better, he couldn't help but still be cautious about it, not with it all so fresh on his mind still.

So absorbed in her, and the prospect of her answer, he'd not keyed into Tambourine's approach early either. When she turned to notice it, he did as well and he tensed accordingly until he could know more. Silas squinted into the other pup's direction, his nose wiggling carefully to catch all the information he could. The scent of blood worried him. "Tam...?" he asked as he pivoted his front half that way more, wary now of what may await.

When one of the voices called his name, the pup finally stopped shoving his tongue into the ragged wound, eyes flicking upward. "...Silas?" he called back a little dumbly, lurching onto his feet and trotting around to the willow's other side. Indeed, both Silas and Harlyn were parked there. The pup's tail pumped enthusiastically back and forth as he gamboled up to them, nearly tangling his overly long legs again as he screeched to a halt about a foot away from the mother and son pair.

"I was lookin' for mum!" he announced, apropos of nothing, a little shadow passing behind his eyes before they cleared again. "What're you guys doin'?" he wondered loudly in the next breath. For perhaps the first time in his life, he realized how loud he was being and grinned sheepishly before lowering the volume slightly and adding, "Lookin' for your family too?" His eyes shifted between the two as he went right back to poking his tongue into his freshly pierced lip.

Harlyn could only smile at her son and give a gentle nod when he asked after her own health. She was not back to her old self, and likely never would be given the extent of the injuries to her ankle. But she was doing better - a fact apparently simply because she stood before him at all.

Silas was the first to call to the little wolf, who was quick to callback to him. After a moment, Tavi's young son appeared with a happy wag of his tail. She smiled at the child. When the memory of what he'd done after her injury threatened to rise in her mind, Harlyn pushed it away. It still gave her the creeps to think about, and she did not like to associate Tambourine with the recollection as warranted as it was.

"We were just talking at the moment," Harlyn informed the child with a slight pang at the mention of their missing loved ones. She spared a glance at Silas before continuing, stepping towards Tambourine simultaneously, "What did you do to your lip, little grasshopper?" Harlyn reached for him with her muzzle, sniffing the air with concern.

The Ostrega didn't have time to hide his grimace in full, Tambourine was loud and bloodied. Silas stepped uncertainly forward, giving a pivot closer to his mother as he did, meanwhile his tail quivered uneasily at the sight of this situation in full; the boy's explanation was simple enough and made him remember Tavi's absence. His heart went out to him.

Silas gave a little nod with splayed ears, although his eyes were quickly drawn to the younger pup's lip. Harlyn had already covered the obvious in how he had managed to do that at all, so on her heels, the dark boy piped in with a quick (slightly awed) "Doesn't that hurt?"

Both of them seemed quite concerned about his lip. Tambourine wondered what it looked like and went a little cross-eyed in his attempt to see it. Of course, that didn't work. His blueish gaze flicked back up to the pair of worried faces and he smiled, teeth stained pink.

"I fell and I think one of my tooths went through it," he answered Harlyn, then turned to Silas. It did sting a bit but he felt a need both to impress the older boy and allay his concern. "Nah, it's not that bad," he said with a shrug. "Does it look super gross?" Tambourine had to know. His tone was slightly hopeful.

Before either of them could react, something warm and wet plopped on top of his head. The pup jumped in surprise, then looked upward and took a second dollop right to the eye. He scrubbed at his face and tumbled backward, landing on his ass and sending a squint-eyed look upward. A mourning dove cooed innocently, shuffling along a willow branch before taking wing.

"...did it poop on me? In my eyeball?" He sounded one part horrified, four parts tickled pink, and began to laugh loudly.

Tambourine seemed almost surprised that he had been injured at all. Harlyn's brows lifted slightly as he smiled, showing off teeth that were painted in his own blood. She was pleased that he didn't feel any pain, but her concern for him didn't fade. It did, however, get sidetracked.

The boy grew suddenly excited at the prospect that his new wound might make him appear "gross". Harlyn forced a small chuckle and shook her head lightly. She was disinclined to encourage him by showing any true appreciation for the prospect, and it was this that caused her to glance at her own son. Her kids had never behaved as such, and she was perfectly pleased with that as she had no desire to raise children like Tambourine who were loud and wild and far more immature than their age ought to allow. Her kids had been clean and well-behaved, and for the briefest of moments, she wondered at that.

But before her introspection could go any further, Tambourine was crying out again. She glanced overhead as the offending dove spread its wings and took off to find a perch away from the shrieking wolves. Her gaze then moved to Tambourine, where she spotted the telltale splatter of white upon the young wolf's face. She was not quite as amused as Tambourine seemed to be. Her instinct was to clean up the mess immediately, but she held back for just a moment to glance nonchalantly over at Silas, curious to see how his reaction would vary to the other boy's.

He squinted. "It is pretty gross.." Silas confirmed with his eyes still on Tambourine's lip in furthering inspection. Maybe not the grossest thing he'd seen, but concerning enough. He wouldn't want that to be his own face..

But before this trail of thought continued, poop happened and Silas' ears were flat against his head. He didn't realize what had happened instantly, aside from the typical of Tambourine making noise, but when it clicked into place, he kind of just wanted removed from the situation and not have to deal with it now that it had a cherry of bird feces on top now. He shot his mom a quick look and then worriedly eyed Tambourine's laughter. "Now it's more gross," he murmured with a scrunched face at the younger cub. Between blood and dove poop, he was a mess. "Are you gonna wash it? If it's in your eye.. that might not be very good to just let it be," he warned kind of hesitantly because he was just guessing. Shit in your eye just sounded like bad news and Tambourine was awfully nonchalant about a hole in his lip, Silas didn't expect him to.. fully realize how gross it could be. Of course, some blinking and watery eyes would probably do the trick but if the roles were reversed and Silas was in his situation, he'd probably want to just dunk his whole head at this point.

The other two didn't seem to be nearly as amused about the situation as Tambourine felt. "What?" he said in reply to the look on Harlyn's and Silas's face. "It's funny!" he exclaimed with a toothy smile before crooking his right foreleg and swiping it across his eye. This just smeared the white mess across his cheekbone, the gunk making his fur wet and sticky.

Silas mentioned washing it and Tambourine nodded. His face did feel really tacky. "Wanna wash it for me?" he asked brightly, glancing between mother and son, his smile cheeky now. "I'll go clean my eyeball and my lip," he announced a beat later. "Then I'm gonna find some food! Then I'm gonna keep lookin' for mum!" he added before tacking on a quick, "Bye guys!" and skittering away through the Keep.

Silas didn't laugh or even smile, which Harlyn was pleased to see even though she felt a twinge of guilt. Had her kids even truly been kids? Had she cheated them in more ways than she realized with what had happened to their pack?

Tambourine didn't seem to understand their lack of amusement, but he was soon enough giving them a farewell and bounding away. Harlyn's ears fell back and she pressed her lips tightly together. "I'll check on him later," Harlyn commented to her son, "Make sure he truly did wash it, otherwise it might get infected." She looked at Silas again. "Were you hunting?" she asked.

Silas wasn't jumping at the offer to help him clean it any, and just meagerly shook out a 'no'. He peered on in silence, hopeful that his.. more inclined caretaker of a mother may handle the matter more gracefully. But. Tambourine's attention span was shorter than anything else, so he was out of there soon after. He watched him go, as always, a little uncertain of what to make of his everything.

He nodded when she said she'd check on him, not meaning to seem too indifferent to his plight. "I hope it doesn't," he murmured. "Didn't think poop in an eye was very good," Silas sighed quietly and fought off the urge to wince at the thought, but, noted that infection was a potential outcome here -- unsurprisingly. Still gross though. He didn't want to find out personally or have any closer involvement to it than he'd already had. "I was, but.. nothing too exciting to track yet today," he answered, shaking his head. It was quiet out on his trails so far and he was still waiting for dusk to get closer. "What were you doing?" he asked.

Silas explained what he had been up to that evening. As she had suspected, he was hunting. She smiled fondly as he spoke of it. He didn't exactly share much, but still pride glowed in her heart. She liked to see him exploring an activity, growing a passion for something. Growing into himself, and the man he would one day be.

"I was looking for you," Harlyn replied, offering a smile. The one child she ever seemed to have any luck in actually finding those days. "You seem to enjoy hunting, and I know that Stark is pleased with how you've progressed with your skills. I am too."

A fleeting glimpse of confusion had him wondering. "What for?" he asked, curious above all else and eager enough to.. be what she'd been looking for. Of course, he had no qualms about any of it, and adoration was plain to see on his whole self. Harlyn meant so very much to him, how could he not be happy just to be here with her? "Oh.. yeah, I do enjoy it," he answered paired with a tiny tail wriggle. He did enjoy hunting. His skills were improving. He liked knowing that she was pleased, and so was his alpha. Silas didn't know what to say.

"Thanks," he said, kind of sheepish about it but sincere since nothing else seemed to quite suit what he wanted to say. "Stark has been good help to me, and the pack hunt was.. interesting too. I learned a lot. I know there's still lots more to learn, but.. I dunno, it feels good? I like it, I want to do more with it and get even better" he explained softly and glanced away. Even when he had crummy days and lots of bad luck, the successful rushes weren't something he'd found a good substitute for. Plus, it earned him a meal, or one for his family. He liked that security of it, too..