Hushed Willows Back where I belong

She barely slept that first night in The Crook, too shaken up by recent developments to even remotely relax her mind. Plus, she was surrounded by strangers. Wide awake in the darkness, Larkspur curled more closely to her mother, peering off into the cavern's dim interior with trepidation written all over her face. Spur still missed the hollow and, more poignantly, her father. And just because they were part of a pack again now didn't change the food situation; her belly was no less empty than before.

The child sighed quietly, her mind drifting to Deirdre for the dozenth time since their impromptu meeting near the ridge. She hoped her mother would take her to see the young girl, that Deirdre's spell would work and bring Mordecai back to them. Maybe when daddy came back, their little family could return to the hollow, just the five of them. With visions of that happy reunion in her head, Larkspur finally found some rest.

What felt like only moments later, she startled awake and lifted her head. It was early morning, sun filtering into the cave's mouth, silhouetting the figures bustling about the interior. Spur shrank to the cool stone floor, trying her best to go unnoticed even as her big blue eyes followed the various' wolves movements. She avoided direct eye contact with all of them, though when a large gray she-wolf strode past with a small lookalike at her heels, Larkspur couldn't stop staring.

Pippin had fallen to muted silence after the start of their journey. Homesick for the Hollow, the boy had only crumpled further in to himself when Mordecai had also disappeared from their lives. He stuck close to Harlyn and his siblings – and even when they had finally come upon another pack that had accepted them within their fold, the boy had yet to speak anything.
 
 He was jostled lightly by the activity about them. His own runt-like form had been pressed close to his mother, but even at 16 weeks now, it would seem Pippin would remain small, as his body remained malnourished from the famine.
 
The pang of hunger stirred a gentle grunt form the boy, but he made no further complaint – his voice no longer rumbled from his jaws, and casting a quizzical look to his sister, who was also awake, Pippin scooched closer to her, nestling his muzzle on to her back, seeking solace from her.

She kept looking, up until the puppy swung his head in her direction, caught her gaze and grinned. Larkspur swallowed thickly and immediately dropped her eyes in a fit of shyness. By the time she gathered the courage to peek up through her lashes again, both mother and son had moved out of view, presumably exiting The Crook. Spur felt a small pang of disappointment. There was a part of her that wanted to go after them, but it was very tiny and didn't stand a chance against her innate anxiety.

When Pippin pressed closer to her, his snout touching her shoulder blade, Spur instinctively curled toward her brother's familiar, comforting warmth. "Morning, Pip," she whispered. She glanced past him, to where Harlyn and Silas were stirring too, rising to greet the day. The sight of them was always welcome, though she felt an ache over the missing Mordecai. "Wanna go outside with me?" she asked her quiet brother, making a point to seek and hold his gaze.

One ear would flicker to the gentle sound of his sister’s voice – one of the only sounds that could soothe the boy now. His own response was only to curl closer to her, his eyes blinking up at her as his frail and hungry form gave a tiny shiver. He spoke nothing still – and when she invited him out, her eyes held steadfast upon his own. Nature dictated a shift for him then, and glancing away in submission he did not understand fully yet, the boy only responded by pulling away and pushing himself up. He was so tired – the idea seemed almost too much for him, but he would not let his sister explore alone, and so he waited, still not seeking her gaze, for her to lead the way.

The prospect of going outside would not have appealed to her without one of her family members by her side. But Pippin seemed willing, if not particularly reactive to the invitation. Spur sighed quietly, understanding all too well her brother's plight. She brushed her muzzle against his cheek again, nose skimming along the bone before coming to rest at the corner of his eye. She pressed her nose there, then gave his temple a kiss before taking a step back and motioning for him to follow.

Keeping a watchful eye on the other wolves milling around them, Spur stuck close to the cave's wall, following the natural contour to its open mouth. After exchanging a quick glance with Pippin, she slipped outside and scooted immediately to the left of the doorway. She trotted a few yards, then paused to look back and wait for her litter mate to catch up to her. Over his shoulder, she spied several marauders chatting near the threshold of The Crook. A few of them looked back at her curiously, so Larkspur immediately dropped her eyes.

Larkspur’s touch was met with a gentle nudge of his own – though it was the most Pippin revealed in ways of affection for now. The kiss was a reminder of all he ah delft – his family, and the boy still felt the ache of Lost Creek Hollow within his chest. Perhaps father had gone there – and that was why they no longer seen him.
 
He trailed with a faux aloofness after his sister – his own nerves alight with the fact they were surrounded by such strangers, and yet he would not deny his tawny sister’s desire for exploration. Hunger pained him – he wanted nothing more than to curl in to himself and sleep the day away.. to forget the nightmare they now lived.
 
But his devotion to his sister kept him firm, and as she cast a glance back to him, Pippin noted she seemed to look past him – and that her eyes instantly dropped. Peeking over his shoulder, he noted the strangers that studied them, and his own form, despite every desire to stays strong for Larkspur, all but melted to the floor as his belly suddenly dragged upon the ground, his paws skimming him closer now to his sister’s side as his ears fell flat.

None of them called out to the pups, so Spur nudged Pippin with her elbow and slunk from the rocky terrain just outside The Crook to a stretch of trees beyond. Although there were no leaves on the trees, they nonetheless slipped out of view, with Larkspur leading her brother to crouch among the roots of a stripped willow tree. She sighed as she leaned back against the trunk.

"I miss home," she said to him in a small, sad voice. "Remember the creek?" The hollow had been named for it. It had been Spur's favorite feature. Although she didn't hate this place on principle or anything as petty as that, Larkspur somehow doubted there was something similar around here.

He followed dutifully --- once reaching the tree, the boy did turn his attention from his sister to study the intricate bark of the tree, leaning a tentative nose forward to study the scents that lingered upon it. This place held little love from him -- his heart belonged only to his family and Lost Hollow Creek, so when Spur questioned him on their lost home, the boys ears practically wilted to his head in remembrance.
 
His nose tipped to her cheek in gentle agreement -- his eyes casting past her to study the strange wolves that now harbored them, and a light frown cast itself upon his features.
 
He hated it here.

She saw the way her mention of their birthplace affected him and felt a jolt of guilt. She moved nearer to Pippin, wishing desperately that she could say or do something to reassure him, make him feel better, get him to smile and speak. But they couldn't go home. Their family lived here now. They belonged to the Keep these days; they were Marauders, as ill-fitting as that title was for the Ostrega family of five.

The urge to alleviate her brother's pain grew and grew, prompting Spur to suddenly whisper, "We'll go back, someday. You and me and Silas. And mommy and daddy too." Because surely Mordecai would come back. And certainly their parents missed Lost Creek Hollow as badly as their children did? Larkspur could be wrong but she didn't think so. Otherwise, why had they all left? "We'll go back home." The thought had never crossed her mind until just now and she'd brought it up to help Pippin, but she found herself clinging tightly to it too.

I'm the worst. So sorry for the wait!

He hated it here.
 
The very thought overcame him so suddenly and with such force, Pippin could feel the bile rise in his throat and resisted the urge to retch – his stomach far too empty to release anything. He missed the gentle trickle of the creek from home – the clear scent of trees and grass upon the wind. The altitude here was far from what he was sued to, and while the willows were pretty, they did not remind him of anything happy.
 
Larkspur seen the shift in him, and glancing up in distress, the boy studied his sister as she made to promptly soothe him. He could feel a tremor in his lip, and in turn, Pippin touched his nose to her cheek, seeking solace in his littermate. Little did she know, but he would hold her to these very words – his mind already formulating the plan to have his parents move them back home.

No worries!! But I think this is a good spot to fade it. :)

Pippin's nose pressed to her cheek, which Spur interpreted as a positive reaction to her declaration. So she repeated it, saying, "Daddy will come home. Then we'll all go back to the hollow." She left it at that, opting not to mention the possibility that Harlyn and Mordecai might not want to go back there. That would only upset him. But even if that was the case in the end, Larkspur wanted to take Pippin back home anyway. Even though the thought of ever parting ways with their parents put a big old lump in her throat.

"We'll go home," she repeated, ad nauseum, until she found herself drifting off to sleep. She could hardly catch a wink in The Crook, but Pippin's silent presence made her feel safe. In the absence of their literal home, her loved ones were the next best thing.

Larkspur’s words washed over him like a lullaby, and with his nose pressing closer to her, the frail boy made to curl up closer against him, exhausted from their days, and starved. With her repeating the promise to him, the boy allowed his gold eyes to flutter shut, and it was there he would seek a nap – for he could move no more, and held no desire to seek further in the lands of the Keep, nor watch the strange wolves that graced it.