derp
Harlowe knew this with a certainty that sang in his blood and called him from Dahlia de Mai. He was not generally one to venture beyond the borders, and he especially did not like to head north -- Phoenix Valley was north of Dahlia de Mai, and he liked to avoid that territory. He had not gone near it since leaving. Rio might still be there. He did not want to think of her -- not while heading home, heading for Mother.
The youth moved early, trekking toward the mountain. The sound, feeling, whatever it was, grew louder and thrummed in his in his ears and in his heart, and his youthful, chocolate-tinged face grew bright with anticipation. Whatever he had been feeling over the black and white stranger, the pallid youth had forgotten it. She was here again, and he knew he had to go to her.
Though Larkspur's scent had begun to fade from Dahlia de Mai, Harlowe did not realize that Larkspur had been removed from the pack. He did not interact with his packmates, and so he had no knowledge of his uncle's exile. Had he known, he might have left himself, quietly sliding from the ranks without so much as a notice and seeking the dark-furred man out.
Even now, though, the connection with his uncle was tenuous at best now that Mother had returned. She would guide him and she would take away this terrible pain and awful burden from him. Though the tawny youth knew he could never tell her of Rio, much less about the two strange girls, he knew Mother would fix him. As he walked up the mountain, her scent entered his nose for the first time, and he could not supress a cry of joy. Such a sound had never been uttered from his muzzle before.
Goaded to speed with the new scent in his nose, the youth began to run, following it with surprising ease. There were strangers everywhere, but they might as well have been invisible -- Harlowe did not even notice them; he could only see her. Without hesitation the boy headed forward to his mother and buried his face in her fur, whining and muttering incoherencies. When he could speak, he lifted his head and looked at her, a dazzled smile on his face. “You came back,” he said. All was forgiven, and she had never left in the first place. She had come back to him.
Word Count :: 412
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