Golden Glade à travers la forêt de nos cœurs
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All Welcome 
Instead of habitual rain falling early in the day, it was simply cloud. A blanket of gray had come across during the night and lingered; its stark contrast to the sharp green of the glade did little to improve Phoebe's mood. She had done well to try and shy away from the others where she could and was finding it was easier to put on a brave face when she was actually cornered with conversation. Living in the glade hadn't gotten any easier for her. She hated it, hatred every stupid facet she discovered or any new feature that her family had shown her. But she was learning how to smile in spite of it, even when she felt the plateau had been a better home.

She had been stuck on one particular line lately—they go where they are happy. She had butchered that line into many variations through the hours and days. It hadn't locked any hidden meaning or brought her any sort of comfort, but it had woken the notion that maybe she could go back to the plateau herself. After all, her mother had encouraged her to go and visit the rest of their family in the copse, but she had always been a homebody. The wilds were simply that: wild. The unknown element in all of it had always kept her close to home. It certainly had not fostered confidence when even here in the glade they had their minor incidents regarding borders.

Which was exactly why she had lost herself in the deeper part of the glade she could, where the forest seemingly swallowed her whole. For a while, it didn't matter what the weather was overhead or that she was unhappy. She felt like no one would readily find her here, that she could escape for a moment to let her guard down. Eventually they'd find this spot too, she knew, but for now it was too easy to simply enjoy it for what it was. To enjoy solitude.

if you still wanted a thread, here it is @Tiarnach
you're a bandit like me—eyes full of stars
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sorry for the wait <3
Part of him aches for his family's company as he wanders away from them, but his need for isolation proves greater. He still can't quite wrap his head around all that has happened recently, and he finds it easiest to think when he's alone. Or, try to, anyway. Thinking about it too long often leaves him feeling dizzy — not that it stops him from trying.
Luckily, something distracts the pup before he can reach that point. A stranger — sort of. A packmate, more accurately, but one he has not met. He freezes in place several yards away, debating his approach for a few moments. Part of him can't help wondering if his new packmates are as averse to this move as the rest of his family — if perhaps they are not welcome. Curiosity wins after a moment, though, and he starts toward the dark figure slowly. Hi, He says quietly when he's close enough, halting a few feet away in case his presence is unwelcome.
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As she walked along, she found herself slowly coming to terms with the world around her. Nothing extreme, nothing like an instaneous shift, but just the thought that maybe things would work out the way they were supposed to. The seed of an idea had begun to take root in the fertile soil that was her mind, and for all the imagery therein she wondered if she could make a go of braving her way out to the plateau again.

Of course, those thoughts were dashed to bits when a small voice reached out to her, and her gaze wheeled around on the boy. The ease that had been on her face was quickly replaced for lines of tension; her brow furrowed as she tried to recall his name, but nothing came. He had come with Rannoch and Liffey, that was all she remembered. One of their younger brood and a stark reminder that her mother would be providing them with more in the weeks to come. Her steps halted.

"Hi," she answered back. Phoebe let her gaze roam past him to the forest, wondering if perhaps one or both of his parents lurked beyond. As much as she wanted to shirk away and live to be unbothered for another day, she couldn't afford to be rude if eyes were watching. "What are you doing out here all alone?" She opted to play pleasantries until she determined otherwise, curious whether or not this one had a minder.

no problem. if you're busy, you're busy.
you're a bandit like me—eyes full of stars
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He's not quite experienced enough to accurately interpret the lack of enthusiasm he finds in her response, though he notes it all the same. It makes him feel a little more shy about the interaction, and he pauses briefly before he can come up with an answer of his own, swallowing and trying desperately to ignore the confusing knot twisting in his stomach. Part of him wonders if he's doing something wrong by being here — but he won't truly believe that until he hears it from mom or dad, of course. It's quiet here, He offers simply, pausing again. What's your name?
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It's quiet here, and she wondered if perhaps he too needed the escape. He may have been young but she reasoned that his feelings were just as valid as her own. His life had been heaved about on a greater scale than her own, though the scope of such a distance was relatively limited. She could not quite fathom the trek through plain and forest and over mountain alike to get to where they were now.

Of course, she had never believed that her mother would abandon the plateau as she had.

Or her father.

But like children were wont to do, even her in her adolescence, he pushed the conversation along.

”I'm Phoebe. Who are you?” Or perhaps she should have asked, which one. Her parents had told them loosely of Rannoch and Liffey's brood but she couldn't have told anyone which was which. He was definitely cut of the Blackthorn cloth though—that stripe on his back. Finley crossed her mind then, though it had been an age and a half since she had seen the matron to recall just how they were all connected.