Hushed Willows We all started off as shiny dimes, but we all got flipped too many times

@Abel was among those who would stay. For that Reverie was grateful. She wasn't sure yet what kind of pack they would be when the dust finally settled, but she knew that she was beginning to trust those who had pledged to stay by her. She knew that she would have to.

Soon it would be time for some of them to part for the tasks she'd given them — but not yet. Not until Reina and Tybault returned. For now she called Abel to her den, curious to know what role he would play in the pack. It would be his choice entirely; the pack's ranks would no longer define their members so wholly.

Uncertainty was a thick veil that blanketed the wolves of Hearthwood. And though Abel wished to detatch from that, as he'd done again and again, he could not wholly escape this anxiety. But Reverie's drive would be enough to snuff the feeling for now.

She called for him a second time. Abel weaved his way through the wood with an uncharaceristic swiftness. He greeted her with a nod upon seeing her.

Abel, She greeted him softly, tail swishing slowly across the ground. I realized that I've never really asked you - well, what your plans are. For the future.

Or maybe I should say - your hopes for the future, Reverie amended after a moment. There's been so much going on, but - this pack is meant to support everyone's dreams. That was my role here, before - um. Before my husband disappeared. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.

I guess it's still my role, She tried to smile as she said it. It's only that there's a lot more to it now.

For a moment Abel took to a stunned silence turned contemplative. 

What were his plans for a future? 

The question wasn't dwelled upon. It hardly ever was, for he knew there would be an inevetable draw to a blank.  Instead he filled his mind with empty declarations and promises. All of which had come to mind time and time again, reheresed in his darkest hours. He never spoke them aloud then, and he wouldn't now. Couldn't now. Abel's throat had gone dry.

An answer came eventually. I don't know. His voice was distance at first, but it came to him as he spoke more.

I never really thought about that, I guess. He felt discomforting guilt as he looked at her smile. All he could do was attempt to shrug it off, but it did not help.

It's hard to know sometimes, Reverie said lightly, as if agreeing with him. Her eyes had turned to her children. I never expected to be a mother. Even after Blossom, I thought it would never happen again. Life has a funny way of leading you where you're meant to be, I guess.

Where did you come from? Before Hearthwood, I mean, She turned back to him with curiosity apparent in her gaze. Abel hadn't spoken at all of his life before this pack, but surely he'd had one.

I'll say, he sighed beneath his breath.

There was once a time where the answer came easy.

The following question brought him to silence once more. 

Rivenwood. His voice had left him again as his mind wandered into memories long surpressed. What little he could pick from seemed so distant now.  That's where I was raised.

A correction came quickly. Well, I was born there. Fragments of the past made for a full picture as he scoured through it. A knot tied in his chest just then. And — I— He could hear his heart beating.

Abel shook his head, cleared his throat. I wasn't there long. He hadn't meant to say that aloud.