Swift River inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

For @Sonnet first and then @Archer
Sunset, Light Snow, -6F/-21C

Viorel had been to this area a couple of times in the past, he had frequented the river last winter before everything had happened. Once his son had left him gifts while he slept, and once to hop across the slippery stones with that strangely silent man. Actually, thinking along those lines, he looked to the cub who traveled alongside him. It suddenly dawned on him how alike they were, silent, and now that he was thinking about it, they even looked a lot alike. The thick white fur and the green eyes…

They had set out scouting the nearby territories, looking for any missing members, tracking the herds, and mostly just stretching their legs a little. Coming to a pause near the river that still flowed rapidly, despite being deep into the winter he asked, ”I never asked you Little Fox, do you remember your parents? Or know where they are?” He trailed off before adding, ’I met a man here once and you remind me of him, he was very quiet and didn’t have a name so I just called him Hopper.” Little did he know how close he was to landing on the truth, not that he would ever really be able to know.

Viorel was starring at her. She'd grown accustomed to his yellow eyes watching her, his tall and dark frame becoming a familiar comfort. His grumpy gruff voice replaced the absence of the one her da never had. Sonnet wouldn't have gone as far as to consider him like a father, but he was something of the sort. Her small paws kept in step behind his, lightly pressing the snow with little indentation as she walked. She would cast a wary glance around them every so often, still not fond of the world after the cougar incident.

The man began to speak as their pace slowed to a stop. She glanced at the flowing waters, remembering home with a bitter twinge in her chest. She sniffled. She wasn't going to cry today! She cried all the time, but not today! Sonnet took a deep breath and focused on the questions being asked. Of course, she remembered her parents...or...wait. Little Song furrowed her brows, the memories seemed to have a new haze on them, only her sister was clear now. Her mom in particular seemed hardest to recall. Her lips curled down at the realization that she was beginning to forget them. The grief she'd been feeling threatened to swallow her, choke her out, and the pup chose not to offer any sort of answer.

Glassy eyes lifted from the ground back to his yellows. She reminded him of someone? The girl's head cocked to the side. Her da was quiet...

"Speak"

Tonight we make our dreams come true
**Sonnet hasn't spoken since losing her family.

Archer

This was torture. This was hell. He didn't know where else to look, except perhaps Iridescent Lagoon, where she'd been born. Perhaps that place was more of a home she could return to. She'd only just arrived at the Backwater; would she even remember how to get there? What if she'd gone up the mountain looking for the Cove and gotten lost, or worse - the mountains were dangers, and that place was curse, and...

Archer had to stop and violently shake his head, as if the thoughts might be cleared like snow from his nose. He took a deep, gasping breath, trying to stave off the panic. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't. If she was gone - truly gone - he didn't know what he'd do. What he could do. He couldn't go home, that was certain. He'd already come back a failure once. To come back again, with nothing to show for his search efforts, without his only remaining child-

It wasn't just his pride anymore.

Archer dropped to the ground and buried his nose between his paws, trying to stifle the sobs.

[size=x-small]Archer is very haggard and thin; it is obvious he is not doing well.

Little Fox seemed upset about his questions and the leader felt bad, his expression softening from his usual gruffness. He offered her a small smile, ”I didn’t know that Vasco was my dad until I was an adult, for most of my life I thought it was a man called Platon who went missing while out on a mission. So, for a long time I didn’t have a father.” He didn’t know if this would make her feel any better, but it made him feel a little better to say it, plus he knew that she wouldn’t tell. Turning back to his story he looked at the rocks, ”Me and Hopper played a game of leap frogs to see who could cross the rocks, except he fell in at the end,wound up spending the night in the den to dry off and warm up.” It was a funny memory, a light hearted one.

But, the easiness couldn’t last forever. A familiar scent began to drift into the area and Viorel froze, eyes wide as his leathery nose began to twitch furiously. Archer. He felt like his world shifted and his paws moved on their own accord until he came upon his snow, head buried in his paws and sobs wracking his body. He didn’t know what to say, so instead he just laid down next to him and pressed his side against his son’s. He wasn’t sure how he would react, but he laid his own head down on top of his paws with a small whine, ready to take a beating if that was what Archer needed to do.

He wasn’t sure what had happened to Ally, but it was clear this was not good news.

The child listened, mentally storing the names mentioned away for safekeeping. Vi hadn't a dad growing up? What would she have done without her Da? She recalled when he found her after she'd gotten hopelessly lost in the smoke. The details were blurred but she had known then her dad would always be there for her. Except, where was he now? Looking up at Viorel she leaned forward to press her head into his fur with a whine. She remained in the safety of his warmth until he spoke again. Reluctantly pulling away with moist eyes. His story brought a small giggle. Green eyes glanced to the creek as she pictured everything playing out between him and this Hopper wolf.

Viorel's demeanor quickly changed and he set off after someone. She mimicked him, copying the way he tracked down the scent. It was unfamiliar and led to a wolf she did not yet know. One who was doing something rather odd-looking. Her brows furrowed, she wanted to ask him why his head was buried for she'd never seen a wolf bury their heads before, but he was crying. This kept her lips sealed. She waited to see what her guardian would do. Then nervously she slowly crept forward and sunk to the ground. Her snowy fur mingled with the darker shades of the adults.

And like the pure and innocent thing she was, Sonnet began to lick the crown of the stranger's head. A gentle hum rumbling from within her throat. The melody was as equally soft as her.

"Speak"

Tonight we make our dreams come true
**Sonnet hasn't spoken since losing her family.

Archer

He hadn't heard them coming, although he really should have. He'd once been very good at situational awareness... but now he was too focused on his grief and frustration and self loathing to really care who or what might be approaching him. Suddenly someone was beside him, warm fur against his own, and the familiar scent washed over him even as he startled away from the contact.

Archer stared at Viorel for a long moment before the pup's small kiss to his crown startled him again. He didn't know who she was, but her intent seemed good. He hesitated for a moment more, flashes of anger flickering through his mind, but in the end his need for support - the support of his family - had him tucking his face into his da's side and taking a deep, shaky breath.

"You were right," he whispered. "I'm a failure."

[size=x-small]Archer is very haggard and thin; it is obvious he is not doing well.

Viorel had honestly expected for Archer to react violently, to reject the contact. He would have taken it gladly, but watched carefully while Sonnet licked his son’s head because if he lashed out at her he would need to intervene. She was innocent in all of this, just doing her best. Weren’t they all just doing their best?

What Archer said broke his heart, and the father shook his head vehemently. His volume was low but his tone was firm when he stated, ”No, I was wrong. You made a mistake but you’re not a failure.” He felt his own eyes becoming a little misty and he quickly blinked it away to try and hold himself together, ”For what it’s worth, we’re still looking.” Maybe he needed to be better at it, but it reminded him of the searches they had done for Vanadis, and Isla, and everyone who had gone missing. He should try harder.

It felt like his sons were always showing him that he should be trying harder. Doing better. Growing more. He had been the same age Archer had been when he became a father, wads his son also being forced to learn the same lessons?