Although Gus was not one to question his mother, he found himself whining as she carried him away from his birth place. I'm not ready! he squealed, I like it here! But his mum wouldn't tell him why they were leaving or where they were going. This filled Gus with a deep, deep fear as he wobbled uncertainly after his mother, the wide open world flooding his senses and overwhelming him. There were so many different trees beyond the den, ones that grew close together or had needles that poked at his poor pads. The sounds were equally as troubling: raucous cries from above, strange chirping all around him that he hadn't heard from inside the den. What where these creatures? Where were they?

Several long, arduous days later and Taima abruptly plopped him under the most curious tree. Reverently he bobbed his head as she told him to stay put, though he wanted to cry when she turned around and walked away. Mum, he whined, don't leeeeeeave. In an attempt to distract himself, he studied the wilted branches that sagged all the way to the ground. Even if they weren't the kind of trees he was used to, they were kind of alright.

After several minutes with no further sign of his mother, Gus decided that waiting for her would best be spent asleep and, despondently, he curled up against the bending trunk of the willow tree.

While Taima had expected the emergence of one of her uncle's lackeys, she had not expected to be greeted with such harshness. She visibly shrank away, bowing her head and flattening her ears. "I dare you," the intimidating guard had said, "to give me one good reason to not run you from the borders at this very second." The young Lyall's breath caught in her chest and the words failed to form on her tongue. The courage and nerve came easily, however, as she remembered that it wasn't just her own skin on the line. She had to do this, not for herself, but for Octavius, her only son and heir. She had to do this if she was to see her father's domain rebuilt and revived.

This was for Octavius. For the father she had scorned. For the mother she had missed with all her heart...

"My name is Taima Lyall," she stated, her voice only slightly wavering. "My un--" Before Taima could even explain, she was startled by the emergence of yet another dark-coated woman, whose ivory lips also framed a set of clenched teeth. Apparently Taima had upset them, and she sorely wished now she had known the reason why before coming along their borders. At the very least, she was rather glad to have avoided subjecting her son to such an aggressive encounter.

She flattened herself in the grass, her stomach pressed against the ground with her ears completely flush against her skull. "Please," she was begging now, unsure of what to say or do. "I n-need my family... I have a son, we need your help." Between the willows and being as spindly as she was with just being months out of her yearling days, Taima could have easily looked like a pup. The insolent daughter that had constantly sent her father into such a whirlwind of rage, just as these two women were before her.

"Is my uncle Angier here?" she dared to peek up at the lookalike ladies' faces, a whimper solely shaping her words. "I just want to see him."

"Do give reason why it is my responsibility to help you and your son," the more dominant of the women stated, "I have sons - five of them, what makes you think there is room for yours?" It sounded as though Taima had blown her chance, her last hope in keeping her son alive. As it was, with her constant worrying about him, she was a terrible hunter and an even hopeless scavenger. Without the support of other wolves, who could at least look after Octavius and provide him with the social stimulation he needed to thrive (and, surely, all those morning and afternoons alone were bound to possibly leave an impression on the boy), she felt as though her son had been dealt a terrible hand in the game of life. It really should have been the other way around, the way she saw it - being the only son of two children who were their parents' appointed successors.

She held back the whine that building up in her sinuses, shivering while she fought to keep herself from cringing upon hearing the words that meant that she would be turned away, never to return. The words that fell on her folded ears, however, caught her by surprise. The woman had known her name. Had Angier mentioned something about her before? She considered Renier, Calla, and Ryvet - her age mates- and their ventures in looking for her, but decided against it (though this was actually the truth about how the young Lyall had slipped into Elettra Archer's memory).

Her Uncle Angier was not there and he would return, hopefully, within a few days' time. Taima whimpered a singular note of dejection but it was cut off by the Lady Archer's considerate and lenient gesture of allowing her and her son to stay. Though, there were rules, a judgement of sorts, which she should have seen coming. The cub in her head groaned and grumbled out of habit; she might have grown up but, mentally, her youth remained and it still hated to be dictated to. On another hand, she knew it was for the best and nodded in understanding as she stared at the ground.

She was not to use the pack den or make use of their caches. She was not to be considered apart of Willow Ridge unless her uncle, himself, accepted her into the pack.

"Now go," the Leader's words were succinct, a clear order for Taima to make herself scarce and keep herself as such while she was a guest of Willow Ridge. She gave her tail a few wags, bowing her head low as she crawled backwards and away from the two women before straightening her posture to prepare herself for the journey back to where she had left Octavius beneath a willow not too far away. "Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you... I will retrieve my son and I will be back to seek out my uncle." She gave a rather grateful smile, one more whisper fleeing from her lips before she made her leave, "Thank you."