While he expected the pale Reinier to jump at the opportunity to find her sister, her declining his offer did not come as a surprise. They were in this together — although they had both been abandoned by those they loved, they would not abandon the rest of their hodgepodge family. If Zia wanted to be distant and wander in and out of Timber territory with no explanation then he would not chase her. His home — his family — resided here; he would not leave them. Arion could not break his promise.

Instinctively he nuzzled into her soft neck fur, pulling her in closer to his chest in a feeble attempt to comfort his friend. “Okay,” he responded in a soft voice, his ears folding against his skull. He allowed the silence to consume them once more — mostly because he did not know what else to say. Arion truly wished that Bracken would find her way back to the Broken Timber pack; to Ember. There were two possible outcomes. Either, a) she was pulling a Zia and was out on some sort of excursion, exploring the neighbouring territories and making friends, and she would be home soon. Or, b) she was going full Inkheart, and leaving her family behind — for good. As time pressed on, it looked as though the latter was winning, despite how badly he wished for the other (better) option.

“Y’wanna go to the falls tomorrow? There might be some frogs or fish we can chase,” he offered lamely once he decided the silence was enough. His tail thumped against the ground in encouragement as he pulled his chin away from her, his sea green eyes studying her pale complexion as he waited for a response. 

Sometimes not looking was the best option. Searching, endlessly, and coming back empty-handed was both frustrating and disappointing. One could only look so much before there was nowhere else left to look. Bracken would return, when she was ready. She was a smart girl; as much as she knew how to get into trouble, she also knew how to get out of it. What Ember needed was a distraction and Arion was willing to help her with one (or several).

The half wag of her tail bought a smile to his face. That was a start. He returned the gesture with his own wagging tail as he nestled into her pale fur. “Perfect,” he responded before falling quiet once more, his chin resting against his forelegs. Tomorrow would be filled with youthfulness and irresponsibility; there would be no time for sulking or dwelling on things that could not be fixed.