Hoshor Plains But beware all those angels with their wings glued on

The continued disappearance of his brother was a very large source of worry for Acheron. Mother seemed worried and busy lately, and so he hadn't wanted to bother her with how he was feeling. So instead, he dealt with his anxious energy the way he usually did and took everything out on his current stick...only, he had chewed it completely down and now needed a new one. 

So this morning, he busied himself with trying to find just the right one, not deterred even a little but the thick blanket of snow that covered the territory. The plains didn't hold as many prospects as he had always found near the river, so it had been a difficult task. Acheron had searched through the territory most of the day until he narrowed his search down to three different sticks. All three were almost as long as he was and relatively thick, which were both important qualities since he wanted them to last as long as possible; searching for a new one was always such a project. He nosed the sticks around, comparing their weight and texture and trying to decide which one felt right. He was having trouble choosing, though, and he ended up plopping down in front of the pile and looking down at the sticks with a frustrated expression. He sat there for so long that a layer of snow collected in his fur, so he stood and shook it out, then sat back down to resume his silent consideration.

forward dating to Jan 4, 2020

The smirk settled easily on his lips as Emrik watched the soon to be yearling, who sat back examining his array of sticks. Clearing his throat and taking a step toward the youngster from his left, “I think the one on the right looks best.” He too had been a young boy once, and had often had his own deliberations over the right stick. Although the sticks here were sturdier and tended to last longer than the ones back home.

Emrik clearing his voice didn't pull him from his hyper focused state, so when he heard him speak, he jumped a little. Acheron quickly looked over at him, his eyebrows lifting some in surprise. Emrik had been gone for a while, and he often wondered if he was coming back. Now, here he was. He wondered if that meant Castor would come back too. 

He looked back down at the sticks, gaze inspecting each one for the twentieth time before resting on the one on the right. He looked it over a few times. It was the sturdiest, but it was also shorter than the other two; it's thickness might make up for that fact, though. He looked back to Emrik. How so? he asked. Acheron was curious to know what factors had influenced his decision.

Tilting his head at the question, he took a few deliberate steps forward, and sat alongside the boy. Young man? He thought for a moment, and almost shook his head at the bizarre thought, no he’s still a boy, for a little longer yet. Emrik mentally reassured himself. Clearing his throat for a second time her inspected the sticks one last time, taking the serious tone from Acheron, Emrik thought over his response carefully.

“Well…," he started, “when I was young...,” and didn’t he sound old saying that, “I would also choose the thicker branches, they tended, in my experience, to last longer. As my jaw and teeth grew stronger, with time, I found that I broke thinner sticks faster, and therefore had to find another soon rather than later.” Removing his gaze from the sticks and focusing on the boy, Emrik smiled, waiting to see what Acheron thought of his advice.

He studied Emrik intensely while he spoke, as if he were a riddle he needed to solve. He broke down everything he said and processed it in his still developing mind. So he was a fan of sticks too. Interesting. Acheron wondered if Emrik liked them as much as he did. Probably not. His suggestion made sense and it was kind of the direction he was leaning anyway. He nodded. Yeah, that's what I was thinking too, he answered with a shrug, gaze falling back on the sticks. 

He was quiet for a few moments, and then he fixed Emrik with his full attention, blue gaze searching his face. Why did you leave? he asked, no accusation in his tone, just curiosity. Mom is sad, he added, looking away. Again, there was no accusation in his tone. He didn't blame Emrik because he knew it was because Castor was missing. He was simply pointing it out because it caused him great anxiety and Acheron thought maybe he could help.

Acheron agreed with his opinion, acknowledging and accepting the advice he fell quiet. Emrik continued to study the boy, while the youngster’s eyes re-found the stick, Emrik’s continued to watch him. There was obviously something else on his mind. Waiting patiently, he paused for Acheron to find his words.

It didn’t take long, for the question to be found. The question itself surprised Emrik, but the follow up comment crushed him. His smile slipped, and his gaze drifted down toward his paws. Taking a deep breath, and collecting his thought, Emrik let the silence invade.

“I had a responsibility to you mothers parents, your grandparents. They had asked me to find her, and ask her to return to them. I had to tell them what happened. I couldn’t stay before, but I’m here now. For good.” Swallowing softly, Emrik refixed Acheron with his multi-hued gaze. “Is that ok? If I were to stay.”

Mom had never mentioned his grandparents before. He had many questions now, all of which he would save for later; he needed time to mull them over and make sure they were all the right questions. His heart began to race at the mention of mom leaving, but then Emrik assured him that he had explained why she had to stay here with them. At his question, Acheron's freckled face scrunched in serious thought. It was a big question, even he could tell that. What if he gave the wrong answer or his answer meant more than he thought it would? What if he said one thing but his mom or sisters wanted something else? What if this all was riding on his answer? What if, what if, what if. He could literally go on for hours trapped in that circle of thought. He swallowed hard and drew in a really big breath, finally looking up at Emrik hesitantly. Well...how does mom feel about it? he asked. The safest bet was to do whatever mom wanted in this situation. He wouldn't want to upset her further. But, he knew he should really consider his own feelings on the matter.

Emrik could see the varying arrays of emotions that scattered Acheron’s face. Watching on with sympathy as he tried desperately to think of the right answer. Ultimately his question hadn’t been taken in the context he had asked. Emrik had hoped that Acheron would answer the question from his own wellbeing, did he want Emrik to stay.

Taking pity on the boy Emirk answered the question, “I think she’d be happy if I decided to stay.” Emrik offered the honest truth, his voice without inflection. He didn’t want to influence Acheron’s thought process anymore than that answer already did. He waited for the youngster to answer the original question.

He studied Emrik's face, his own scrunching up a little as he tried to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. He had every reason to lie; if Acheron and his siblings expressed discomfort over Emrik staying, he had a feeling mom would be hesitant to allow it. But he had never seen anything but genuine concern and caring for his mom as well as he and his siblings. So Acheron decided that he probably wasn't lying. Still, was he sure about how he felt about the situation? Not really. But he was sure enough to give him a probationary agreement. His freckled face relaxed and he released a heavy sigh that made his shoulders drop dramatically. I think I would like for you to stay on one condition, he finally answered, his tone very serious. He watched Emrik's face again, studying every line to try and catch whatever hint of emotion might flicker there. Would he agree? Would he blow him off? Acheron really wasn't sure, and anxiety bubbled a little in his chest because of it.

A proposition? Interesting. Emrik thought, curious to what his stepson might want from him. Glad that there was at least some ground to compromise on. "Alright... and what's that condition?" He would pretty much do anything in order for Acheron and his siblings to trust him, but he wasn't going to the let the boy know that just yet. He would have to discover how devoted Emrik was to Speedy through experience, not empty words. He raised his brow at the boy, amusement and curiosity alight in his hetochromatic gaze.

He actually agreed. He shouldn't have been surprised by that; Emrik was a nice guy. But Acheron was kind of negative about things in general, and he his brain always came up with the worst outcomes for things. Excitement widened his eyes some. I want to go scouting with you, he stated. Will you take me sometime soon? It would give him a chance to learn more about this guy and decide if he really liked and trusted him enough to be okay with him in their lives. Plus, he was very curious about the world outside their home, and he thought it was about time he started preparing to be a useful, adult member of the pack.

The reply was not what he had been expecting. And he found his heart warming once again toward the boy, a genuine smile lifting his lips. ”Sure thing kid, any time you want.” The childlike innocence was a wonder to Emrik. He marvelled once again at the beauty of childhood. The request, which was so small, was presented in the grandest of fashions. Emrik looked forward to the scouting trip with his step-son... cringe... he was going to have to get used to that.

Okay, thanks Emrik, he said. Then there was an awkward silence, which wasn't an uncommon thing for him. He didn't really see the point in saying things just for the sake of speaking, and so he often let conversations lull. He looked around a little before deciding that he wanted to be alone again. See you later then, he offered to Emrik as he turned back to his stick. Then he picked it up and trotted off, the size of the stick forcing him to tilt his head some to accommodate it.