Alpine Lake i'm hopeless and awkward and desperate for love.

soooo I don't totally know in my head where they're at right now or if it would be possible for them to literally see the Plateau but ima do this and let's just agree to be vague lol Takes place 6/7

They were nearly there. Liffey felt like she could cry from relief as she and @Rannoch spotted the Plateau off in the distance. They had left the pups behind with @Breccan and @Deshyr to scout ahead, as well as to take a moment to talk in private amongst themselves about whether to rest for the evening or push straight on through. She had been confident that her decision would be rest until she saw the Plateau. Now she was torn.

"I don't know... I'm so tired, but it's soooo close now," Liffey said, turning to Rannoch who stood beside her on the ridge, "We could be there by nightfall if we kept going, and it would be nice to get to really rest..." She huffed uncertainly, her tail swishing irritably at her haunches.

"So close," Rannoch agreed with an uncharacteristic edge of frustration. They'd been traveling non-stop, only stopping when it was necessary. The journey had been tiring, but seeing the plateau was motivation enough for him to keep pushing. "I think we need to push on until we make it. Then we'll actually be able to rest," Rannoch reiterated, wondering what Liffey would think of his call to action.

Wisteria continued to follow her family from afar, often lagging significantly behind them and knowing their path only by their collective tracks and scents. She kept her distance for as long as she could. For what reason, she couldn't say; nerves, perhaps, or fear of rejection. Eventually the hunger morphed into a hollow, all-consuming ache and she knew she couldn't continue to follow them much longer without the food they procured for themselves.

She had grown too weak to catch anything for herself, and with four adult wolves and four voracious pups, there was hardly anything but bones left behind from their meals. Nothing for the drifter to pick over. Knowing that she now had to choose between life and death made it easy to push aside her fear as she approached the mountain lake where her family camped and, more importantly, the ridge where her parents presently stood.

She lurked on the fringes as she often did, hugging the side of the mountain as her thin limbs trembled under her. But it was now or never—she would not make it to the plateau alive without revealing herself—and she made her decision with a timorous howl for their attention.

Liffey sighed gently and nodded, agreeing with her mate's decision to keep going. She had really hoped he would recommend they stop for a while, but it did make sense to keep going. She was just tired, physically and, if she were being honest, emotionally. Their flight from the Hollow had been unpleasant enough with the bad blood they were leaving behind, but it was painful still to see the unhappy looks on the faces of their kids--all of their kids--as they traveled. She had thought the older two at least would be pleased. They knew the Redhawks and loved their grandparents and cousins and everyone else. She had clearly been naive in thinking that it would've been enough to overshadow what they were leaving behind, which had apparently run far deeper in her children than it ever had in her.

"Okay, you're right," Liffey said, turning to head back, "But let's at least walk back to the kids real slow so they can have a little extra time before they have to start again." She smiled faintly, thinking of them. Always, always, always, thinking of them, but still messing it up...

She froze when she heard the howl. It was weak, faint, in a tone and pitch she'd never before heard of that voice, but still instantly recognizable. It was irrevocably ingrained upon her heart, and no passage of time could ever make it fade. Liffey stared blankly ahead, shocked and overwhelmed as memories and emotions blurred past her. "Wisp..?" she murmured softly, a question she knew the answer to. Then she moved, following the source of the call, her eyes darting frantically as she searched for the face she had longed for so desperately for so long.

"Yeah," Rannoch agreed, "We'll hurry along at a snail's pace." Their children were overworked, and they needed time to recuperate before they made their final push towards the plateau. 

Rannoch halted in sync with Liffey, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized the voice that had called out to them. He glanced at his wife, silently articulating his disbelief, before returning his attention to the sprawling landscape ahead of them. "Wisteria?" Rannoch summoned, his voice more confident than Liffey's had been. Without another word, he broke into a determined gallop and followed his wife's lead, as he frantically searched their surroundings.

As she dropped her muzzle back to a neutral position, Wisteria wondered in a small part of her whether her parents would even answer. Would they recognize her voice? She'd only been about six months old when she went missing. So much had changed since then. She was a starving, gaunt eleven-month-old now with a voice that rasped from minimal use. She looked haunting and ragged and unfriendly, and she had become all of those things as well. She'd always been a little peculiar, they knew that, but now she went beyond that. Now she was slightly frightening as well.

She was surprised to see them materialize out of the darkness, and running at that. The last time a pack wolf came running in her direction, it was hostile. These were her parents, but she thought of the young cubs they carried with them, the replacements, and knew it was very possible they would turn hostile if it meant protecting them. Irrational as it was, that thought drove her into a submissive crouch before them, complete with a sharp, appeasing whine.

Liffey's heart stopped and shattered all at once upon seeing her daughter. The months had changed her drastically from the whole, healthy youth she had been not so long ago. But it was still Wisp. It was still her quiet, reserved little girl. The edges were sharper and rougher, but it was impossible for the mother to not recognize her child. Not when she'd spent such a long time yearning to see her again.

It was difficult to resist the impulse to sweep her little girl up in her arms and embrace her tightly, but Liffey did. She remembered Wisp as a child and how she didn't like to be touched or held close. Looking at her now, she knew that this was unlikely to have changed--probably the opposite, but the way Wisteria reacted to their presence. Liffey slowed and whined softly as she took a couple more tentative steps forward before stopping. She straightened her posture and stood before Wisp not in a threatening or imposing way, but in a way that spoke of confidence and safety. There was no danger for her here, and instinct drove her to communicate that in a more feral way than she usually did.

Wisteria's silhouette actualized in the distance as they approached, and the sight of their wayward daughter motivated Rannoch's momentum.  "Wisteria!" he barked happily, "Sweetie! We're here!" There was nothing but love in his voice. 

Wisteria had always been particular, but he hadn't foreseen the reception that they received. Rannoch followed Liffey's lead, mirroring his wife's stance as they slowed; Wisteria had nothing to fear, and he wanted her to feel safe. "Wisp," Rannoch stated, his words falling on the coattails of Liffey's whimpering. "It's alright, my girl. We won't hurt you." He could only hope that she'd agree with what he had said.

It took some coaxing, but eventually their daughter was calmed enough to tell them a little of where she'd been and to agree to come with them to the Plateau. Liffey couldn't believe their luck at finding her again, nor could she even begin to fathom what had happened to turn her little girl into this ill-socialized wild animal she was now. But in whatever shape or frame of mind she came in, Wisteria was her daughter, and Liffey's heart was full from having her back where she belonged.