Heron Lake Plateau i can see a shitfaced brother that i covered for what must've been the last ten years

Skippable!

Though he could not implicitly make the connection between Caiaphas' sorrow and the missing bodies in their troupe, Svalinn was nonetheless interned to conform to her dour energy. At first the boy had been boundless and nipping, having his best go at keeping pace while also hurrying others along when they got too close, but after the long, humdrum miles had drained his tank, at last, Svalinn succumbed to the grim fog suppressing them. He felt the absence of familiar bodies most keenly at night, and the sharpness of it kept him awake; peering about in the darkness for the lounging silhouette of the ponderous Kierkegaard, or the thick cluster of limbs that was his foster brothers.

Those missing had never shown him any great kindness, but as a child who had no comparisons for their treatment of him, he would rather their abuse than their absence. Anxiety coerced the child into whimpering fits, and he often hounded Raleska with needy crudeness for any threadbare companionship she was willing (if ever) to bestow him. Apart from this, being carried when he became too slow for their trek were some of his more defeated moments. Moments he wouldn't soon forget -- not like he'd forgotten the buried teethmarks at his spine. 

Just when he thought he might burst from all the restraints imposed upon him, Svalinn was rendered mute and still by the presence of "newcomers". Blondine had been one of those when he met her; and he reacted to them much as he had to her: he stood stiffly at Caiaphas' wrist, pale chest puft-out and stub-tail mimicking a withering branch in the breeze as he wagged it slowly with uncertain dominance. He was prepared to run them off, but then -- to his utter and frightening astonishment -- his tense muscles abruptly became overridden by a godlike push, and he felt weak and exposed as he was presented like an offering.

He gawked up at the dark-furred male, then at the quiet wildfire blazing at his side. Stunned and bug-eyed, Svalinn looked very much like a toddler trying to process whether or not he needed to put either of these things in his mouth.