04-13-2019, 07:16 PM
A quiet nod, and Tristan agreed to her terms. He wasn’t innately cruel, nor unaware of the gravity of what (likely) happened in Spain, but Sierra was wrong about the outcome. The predator did not mourn blood shed by defending its den, and neither would Tristan. The scents twisted as they proceeded. Sierra’s acceptance of her parents’ fate was tentative at best. Never padded alongside, casting its nose warily at Tristan now and then, confused by the strife sprung between the two-legs. Brenna loped along eventually, yelping when Tristan whistled so she was not left behind. When they stopped to rest several hours later, the pup was exhausted. She sat quite stately at Tristan’s feet as though she were alpha of this little pack, before yawning and laying her muzzle on her paws. Tristan scooped her up and held her over his shoulder, patting her back as she slept, for another thirty minutes beyond the rest stop.
Finally, images pushed uninvited into his mind. He saw a snake laying in the bottom of a pool. Then a massive tree with roots diving in and out of the ground like enormous wooden worms followed. More and more swirled as the wolves of the larger pack introduced themselves. He himself was the image of a brushfire sparking after a lightning storm, consuming all the dead brambles in a wild blaze spreading to the horizon. Brenna shook her head out like bees buzzed in her ears. Never and Sierra were likely communicating similarly.
When finally the great wolf, the elder male of the pack, stepped out from around a tree and stood there, staring at them, it judged them both for a long minute, sniffing warily, before its ears twitched and he turned to lead them forward.
Tristan had never been more excited about anything in his life. He hitched the bag higher on wide, albeit tired, shoulders, and followed close behind.
Finally, images pushed uninvited into his mind. He saw a snake laying in the bottom of a pool. Then a massive tree with roots diving in and out of the ground like enormous wooden worms followed. More and more swirled as the wolves of the larger pack introduced themselves. He himself was the image of a brushfire sparking after a lightning storm, consuming all the dead brambles in a wild blaze spreading to the horizon. Brenna shook her head out like bees buzzed in her ears. Never and Sierra were likely communicating similarly.
When finally the great wolf, the elder male of the pack, stepped out from around a tree and stood there, staring at them, it judged them both for a long minute, sniffing warily, before its ears twitched and he turned to lead them forward.
Tristan had never been more excited about anything in his life. He hitched the bag higher on wide, albeit tired, shoulders, and followed close behind.