mall-caps;">IT'S ONLY cript;">FOREVER, NOT LONG AT ALLShe'd left him near the border, but she didn't bother to linger. He watched as his mother placed the religious pendant she wore around his neck, striding off into nowhere. He was young, but he understood the fact that she wasn't coming back this time. She didn't want to stay to make sure he would be found. She just wanted to run, and in running, was leaving him with someone she spouted words of love about. Someone named Ezekiel. He'd been to young to remember the golden male when he'd lived there before, but she'd told him enough so that he was able to approach the skull-lined border without fear. This was his home, after all, his birthright as the first grandson of Gabriel. His ears flattened and he let out a yipping howl, a young noise given by coyotes, in the hopes that someone would hear.
Though her scent remained, he knew Talitha was long gone before it happened, and he hunkered down to wait for his new family to approach. He couldn't say he missed her; in truth, she had never been the most pleasant mother, she'd simply been a source of care that taught him the way of life that he was familiar with, so he couldn't say he missed her. He knew what he missed. He could remember small bodies around him, he could remember an older girl. He knew his family, and he knew he belonged there.
Strange way to decorate. She'd warned him, but as he set his Massacre reds on the painted skulls before him, he was stunned into some sort of silence. It was a warning. They were large. They meant just what he'd been told during his childhood: Wolves are the enemy. Oh, Talitha had been thorough, she'd erased any semblance of kinship in the young male to the other canines of the world. Just like her, he saw nothing but coyotes, and as he waited for a response, he grinned to think this would be the best place for him.
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