It was almost becoming a regular habit for Rivers to go back to the Dampwoods whenever he felt, in a sense, homesick. He would tell himself frequently it was to feel at peace. Whenever he would return to the place where he hunted, and played, and spent time with his siblings, he felt a different kind of genuine happiness bubble up inside them. Even if they weren't physically there.
The only problem with all this was... It wasn't his true home. Home was much further down South. Home was where it was warm year-round, hardly ever snowing, and where the grass was always green. And ironically, home was where he could hardly remember anything. It had been so long since he was there, and he was so young when they moved up into Bleeding 'Souls.
Oh, he would give anything to actually make the trip to his true home. How wonderful it would be to feel the humid, Southern air in his face again. But Rivers knew very well that leaving his pack was not an option. No, he had to stay with Anathema, help with any chores they may of busied him with. So, for now, at least, his artificial home would have to do. Where most memories of his true home would lie if he was born there.
Today, though, the timber wolf had wandered a bit farther than usual, and was walking through the Sugarwoods, which were much less familiar. Perhaps he had stumbled upon the woods there as a child, but he couldn't really remember. The scent was different, signaling a pack was nearby. Rivers decided to not go much further, though, in hopes of not running into a particularly angry pack member that would bite his head off for stepping over their borders.
Image courtesy of miez!
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