Golden Glade Got a heart like a neon sign

@Rannoch @Liffey :o

In the time since the Redhawks and Frostfurs had joined together in Golden Glade, Breccan had existed on the outskirts. He hunted, he filled caches, but he didn't spend much time with his immediate family. He couldn't; he was too conflicted, and was having a hard time separating his head from his heart and making sense of his feelings. This whole move had thrown him for a loop, and after the first few days, it became clear that it wasn't just teenage hormones and attitude driving his emotions.

Despite his confusion, he had made a decision. He had to leave. He wouldn't return to Lost Creek Hollow -- there wasn't anything left there for him -- but maybe he could head back to that area, find Nunataq or Ibis, and figure out his life from there. His plan was about as clear as mud, but he felt good about it -- at least, he did until he thought about breaking the news to his parents.

Briefly, he had considered simply slipping away under the cover of darkness. It would be easy enough. But he had been there when Wisteria and Remi had disappeared, and had seen how that had hurt his parents. Not knowing what had become of their children had been devastating, and while they might not like or agree with Breccan's choice, they would at least know that he was alive and well. And when he stopped to think about his siblings, he faltered. How could he leave Deshyr? And Wisteria, when she had just come back? And did he really want to miss seeing his little brothers and sisters grow up? But, gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that this wouldn't be goodbye forever; just for now.

He was nervous but determined as he made his way to his parents' homestead. The sun had just risen, shepherding in a new day, and the streaks of color beyond the tree canopy bolstered Breccan's courage. His parents were not unreasonable wolves; they would understand, right? He swallowed hard and then called out, "Mom? Dad?"

Things seemed to be quieting down since their move to the Glade. She couldn't say any of her children seemed happy about it yet, but they were at least getting quieter about it. For the most part. Liffey was very fortunate to have Rannoch as the father of her children. He had a gift for empathizing and comforting that she had not been blessed with. She was good at smiling and hugging and... that was about it. He was the one who could get through, and it seemed like he was slowly working his magic on each of them.

Liffey looked up as her son called to them. There was something off about his presence which immediately roused her anxiety. She nudged Rannoch's shoulder softly before she stood and closed the distance between herself and Breccan. She saw the concern on his face as she stepped forward to nuzzle his cheek in greeting, but did her best to keep her nerves at bay as she smiled at him.

"Everything okay, Brecc?" she asked, her head tilting softly to one side.

As his mother approached, Breccan's heart leapt into his throat. His pulse quickened and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was sure of what he wanted to do, and even felt a little spark of excitement at the thought of embarking on this new adventure, but he was fearful of disappointing his parents. It was now or never, though, and he smiled as Liffey touched her nose to his cheek.

She was perceptive; rather than simply say hello, she greeted him by asking if everything was all right. How to answer that question? "Yes" and "no" were both appropriate, but neither gave enough insight as to the complicated emotions he had been experiencing. So he shook his head gently, while simultaneously saying, "Yeah."

He couldn't help but give a soft chuckle at his own contradiction, then cleared his throat to clarify. "I mean -- kind of. I -- well, I want to leave the pack and go off on my own. Go find my friends and figure out my life," he said. It felt like ripping off a band-aid, but it had all rushed out before he could second guess it, and he supposed maybe it was better this way.

Liffey hadn't known what to expect, but if she'd been forced to guess, this is not what she would've come up with. She had long fantasized about Breccan one day leading his own pack, but they had always been there with him in those daydreams. It would happen a few years down the road, when Breccan was older, and when she and Rannoch were ready to pass on the mantle to him. He was never supposed to leave to do these things. He was never supposed to leave at all.

And yet, here they were.

She stared at him, not quite believing her ears at first. She laughed briefly, tilting her head as she looked at him. "What?" she asked, still smiling but in an anxious way. Liffey had heard him, and she'd understood what those words strung together meant in general. But them coming out of Breccan's mouth just now, that didn't make any sense to her, so she assumed it was some sort of joke.

She laughed, and Breccan briefly wondered if she thought his proposition was ridiculous. He felt a brief flare of frustration bloom in his chest, though he quickly tamped it down -- Elwood was his grandfather, after all, so he had inherited a measure of the Blackthorn's patience and ability to think before acting. He inhaled and exhaled carefully, considering the fact that he hadn't been all that clear in his explanation and perhaps that was causing his mother's confusion.

"I want to -- to go," he elaborated. "Exploring on my own. I have friends I can meet up with -- Ibis and Nuna -- and I want to be independent for a while." He wasn't sure how to make it more plain, especially since he didn't actually have a plan in place. He would simply take to the wilds and roam freely, following no one's agenda but his own. And maybe that excuse wouldn't be good enough for his parents, but he had to try.

As of late, the weather had stalled Rannoch's steps. The surplus of rainstorms had caused his shoulder to grow agitated, and although he had yet to seek Raven's assistance, he knew that he was overdue for a checkup.

Rannoch exited the family den as Breccan began to elaborate his intentions for summoning his parents, and instantly, he felt a sting in his heart. As much as Rannoch wanted to revolt, he knew he couldn't. It was in Breccan's genes to seek independence, as he had had similar ambitions. 

"I see," Rannoch remarked, his expression thoughtful as he settled at Liffey's side. He did not doubt his son's capabilities, and he was thankful that Breccan hadn't left without consulting them, but this hurt, and he was confident that Liffey was feeling similarly. "You'll be back to visit, right?" he asked, his voice softer.

Liffey's smiled faded quickly. The second after she'd asked the question she had realized that she knew exactly what her son had said and what he had meant. Somewhere in her mind flickered the memory of years ago when she'd had a very similar conversation with her own mother. Finley had been angry and hurt and had refused to support her in Liffey's desire to do exactly what her son was now asking to do. Unfortunately, that memory was distant. More near was the hopes she had for her son's future and her fear over losing one of her children again. It was that she grasped onto now to drive her.

"But.. You can't," she said, glancing at her mate with a look of shock and hurt that he would say otherwise before looking back at her son, "Breccan, do you even know where to find your friends? Do you know how to get to them? You've never even traveled alone before. It's dangerous." She shook her head as the words spilled out and she shot another look at Rannoch, uttering his name beseechingly and imploring him to speak some sense to their son instead of standing idly by and letting this youthful, misguided impulsiveness happen.

At Rannoch's approach, Breccan's anxiety increased. But his father's expression was neutral and full of consideration, and his only comment as he seated himself next to Liffey was to ask whether Breccan would be back to visit. "Of course!" he replied swiftly, his nervousness dissipating slightly, to be replaced by excitement. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad!

But now that Liffey fully understood his request, she began to protest. Breccan's orange gaze shifted to his mother's face, upon which her feelings were clearly painted. She insisted that he didn't have the experience necessary to conduct such a trek, and he couldn't necessarily disagree; he hadn't traveled alone before, but how was he supposed to learn if he never tried it?

"I can do it," he said earnestly. "Nuna is back near the hollow -- I know how to get there. And Ibis is somewhere around there, too. I'll be careful," he promised, looking to his more level-headed father in hopes of getting more input in his favor.

Rannoch was between a rock and a hard place; both Liffey and Breccan's viewpoints were valid. He hesitated under his wife's hard stare, contemplating his next words carefully. "I don't want him to go, either," Rannoch admitted, his gaze meeting his wife's. "It can be scary out there—especially since this would be his first time on his own. But, at the same time, this is exactly how we both set out on our own, and look at us now," he'd be a hypocrite not to consider their similar origin story. "We've started our kingdom, raised two beautiful litters so far, and we are thriving." 

Rannoch didn't want his selfishness to hinder Breccan's potential. 

"He's a Frostfur—he's more than capable of taking care of himself," he added, turning to his son with a smile.

Liffey's concern only heightened when Breccan told her where he planned to find his friends. They had not left the Hollow on good terms, which meant he would likely be putting himself at risk for returning there. Especially if he was going back for Terance's daughter, of all wolves. No, this wasn't okay. She could not let this happen.

She had parted her lips to speak when Rannoch tried to assuage her concerns. He made a lot of perfectly valid points, but there was a key fact he seemed to be overlooking. "Yes, but we had each other, plus your brothers, plus the rest of them. We were never alone," she corrected him, "I think you remember as well as I do what happened when you travelled alone, and you were older than he is now." She glanced pointedly at the scar on his neck, then looked again at her son.

"Breccan, I love you and I know you don't understand this, but you're so young still," she said gently, trying to keep the pleading in her voice to a minimum (and failing), "This kingdom we've built--you're a part of it. It will be yours someday. You belong here. You belong with your family."

Briefly, Breccan felt like he was simply the audience to his parents' conversation. He listened intently, with bated breath, as Rannoch and Liffey discussed his own future right in front of him -- and he was reminded that this was exactly why he was doing what he was doing. He appreciated his mother's concern, and was heartened by his father's confidence in him, but no matter what either one of them said, it all boiled down to the fact that he wanted to do things his way. If he stayed here, he would never be given the chance to do that; he would always be within their shadow, and he loved them very much, but he needed to leave.

"This kingdom we've built -- you're a part of it. It will be yours someday," Liffey insisted, and before he had even formulated any words to offer as a response, Breccan found himself shaking his head. He knew that she was referring to the Frostfurs' legacy, and he would continue to bear his parents' name proudly, but this place -- Golden Glade, Frosthawks -- he did not want it. On the other hand, he didn't really know what he did want -- but he was sure that this wasn't it.

"No, Mom. I don't belong here. You might think so, and you might want me to -- but I don't feel like I belong here. I just -- I need to figure myself out. Please understand," he said earnestly. His patience was thinning, but his desire to part on good terms was keeping him from storming out -- for now. "I love you, I'll always be part of the family, and I'll come back -- I promise -- but I need to go."

Liffey's rebuttal silenced Rannoch for a prolonged period. He didn't know what else to say, as his wife had overridden his opinion. Rannoch would not debate with her anymore, as he knew that it wouldn't help their situation. 

When Breccan had spoken his peace, Rannoch nodded. Although he did not want his son to leave, he also didn't want his son to miss out on the exploits that awaited him beyond the glade. "I just want you to be happy, son," Rannoch replied, defeat manifesting in his tone. Regardless of the outcome of this conversation, he knew that he wouldn't prefer either potential solution, as Breccan would either detest them or leave.

Liffey didn't like this. She knew even in the moment the words had left her lips that she had lost. Breccan was just as resolute as she had been, once upon a time when her own mother had said those same words to her in hopes of stopping her from leaving home. They hadn't swayed her then, and she knew they weren't going to sway Breccan now.

Tears swam in her eyes as she looked at her son. She didn't hear what Rannoch said, too loud were her own thoughts of protest that she was working hard to quiet. She gazed at Breccan for a long moment before finally, she nodded and stepped forward to sweep him into a tight embrace. She didn't trust herself to speak, not even to tell him that she loved him. So, she put those words into her touch and simply prayed he could feel them.

Finally, it seemed like he had gotten through to his parents. They didn't seem happy with his decision, but they at least appeared to accept and respect it, as evidenced by Rannoch's words and Liffey's body language. After Rannoch spoke his approval, Breccan shifted his gaze anxiously to Liffey, only to see that her eyes were full of tears. There was a long pause, and then she nodded and took him into her embrace.

In that moment, he felt simultaneously like an adult and a child. He was ready to go off on his own, be independent, find his own way -- but in his mother's arms, he was reduced to a puppy. There was a lump rising quickly in his throat, accompanied by a prickling behind his eyes, but he swallowed hard and simply hugged Liffey back, squeezing her tightly.

When he finally stepped back, he cleared his throat and smiled hesitantly at his parents. "Thanks. I promise, I'll come back," he said; he would certainly come visit, and who knew? Maybe one day he would return to the Frosthawks' ranks, once he had fulfilled whatever this wanderlust required. "I love you guys," he added.

"We can't wait to hear all about your adventures," Rannoch said in reply to Breccan's promise. It was a bittersweet moment; their eldest son was leaving the nest. There was nothing else to say, and he knew they couldn't delay his departure any further. With tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, Rannoch stepped towards Breccan with an encouraging smile. 

"Make good choices out there, son—we want to make sure that you make it back here in once piece," despite the quip, he was serious, "We love you very, very much." Liffey had stepped to Rannoch's side by this point, and they stood with their shoulders touching; the comfort was appreciated. 

Rannoch and Liffey watched Breccan until he was out of sight. "I already miss him," he remarked, turning to his wife with tears in his eyes. Although there was a laundry list of things for them to do, the two wolves decided to take some time to themselves to grieve.