Swiftcurrent Creek Narrow streets of Cobblestone

He demonstrated and Ashlar didn’t entirely understand, but he took in the breath and the way Arric stood and tried to study it so that he would remember. So meditation was like capturing the feel before a storm, a pause in the chaos of the day. He wondered if something like that could help him and resolved to try it when he returned home.

Thank you. I’ll try it. Ashlar guessed that it would help and smiled appreciatively.

He nodded at the question about the leaves, but it was the last part that grabbed his attention most. He missed his parents dearly but at least he knew they were happy and together somewhere. He wondered if that was true of Arric’s, but did not get the sense that it was from the way he spoke. Grieving. He was lucky, then, to at least have them out there and to know he could go back. Even if he knew he would not. He had too many promises here.

No. he answered, looking down. It was hard to explain, but he suddenly wished to try. Even if it might make this man think less of him. She’s my friend. She… there’s Prophet. He stands next to her, and I couldn’t. I’m Hælend. They’re warriors, but I’d rather help and heal. Ashlar glanced at him to see his reaction, then tucked his tail a bit more in shame. I… there was Chacal. She wanted pups, and I helped, but Avicus was upset. She was right that I shouldn’t have - they aren’t really mine. So this year I won’t. He wasn’t sure why he shared that last bit. Perhaps because he’d shared with Prophet before and something in Arric reminded him of the easy nature of his packmate. He hoped desperately that Arric didn’t mind.