So it was true, Sky hadn't told Shawchert she'd found Orin. From what she knew, the woman had searched for her since her disappearance, but only discovered her by happenstance shortly after Orin returned to reality and sought solace with her brother in Cour des Miracles. Why would she hold that back from Shawchert? Had her one-time rival actually respected her wishes to remain undiscovered? Perhaps she understood that Orin needed just a little more time, and would come back when she was ready. It was clear that day in the woods that Orin did not plan to keep Shawchert from his children forever.
But before she could question him and dig a little deeper, Shawchert sat up and the pups tumbled to the ground. She noticed them become preoccupied for a minute as they wrestled with one another until they remembered their prime target – their newly found father – and returned to trying to dominate his attention. What he had just said lingered in the air for a moment though, and she returned with, “But it wasn't just you.” The admission of guilt came out deadpan and lackluster, but brave. “I was the first to be fooled and insist that he be allowed to stay.”
She cut herself off. She had read this same scenario in her books a thousand times; they would fight over whose fault it is and neither feel any better over it. Both would just feel worse, berating themselves and taking on more blame for the other's guilt. She sighed and shook her head.
As quick as she could think that, though, Shawchert was before her. His arms were outstretched, open in a greeting she had not received from anyone other than her brother in months. Her golden eyes looked at the gesture, and then flicked up to his face. The weakest, genuine smile pulled her mouth tight as she stood up and opened her arms in reception. There was no hesitation here, even if she did not leap into his arms with the exuberance she may have once displayed.
For the first time in months they were near one another again, Orin barely making it up to the same place she always did on Shawchert's chest. Her arms hugged her old friend's waist; she was still so little in comparison to him. She hesitated this time, turning her head and resting it on his chest. She inhaled deeply, and suddenly his scent brought back so much. All the memories of the beautiful life they had been crafting in the pack's infancy.
After a moment she opened her eyes – and half wondered when she had closed them – and caught a flash of the band on Shawchert's wrist. “What's that?”
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