Just as quickly as everything changed, it could be changed back again. With the return of Aisling and Kiche, Trisden had, for a while, believed that Prosper and father would not be close behind, but days had passed... and nothing. Perhaps she was just being impatient. But the aforementioned pair had come back almost within hours of each other; was it so much to expect the pattern to continue?

Trisden didn't voice her hopes to anyone. Nobody would know of her subsequent disappointment.

{indent}This time, the pup had gotten permission for her absence, and she trailed lazily back to the den for some extra sleeping. Her sadness was affecting her deeper than she wanted the others to see, not least because Kiche and Aisling both seemed... different. Especially Aisling. The once happy-go-lucky adult whose company she had enjoyed was now strange. It was not something that Trisden could put rhyme or reason to, nor something she could really intellectually discuss with her siblings, so it was another thing that she tucked away. Perhaps Hocus would understand. Perhaps mother would have some answers.

It was, therefore, with a mixture of joy and fear that she crossed paths with the blonde wolf, though natural confidence meant that the former won out. Spying Aisling as they both were headed to the dens, Trisden leapt at the chance for some interaction.

"Aisling!" she called, innocent enthusiasm shining through, upping her pace so that she caught up with the older wolf, her tail wagging behind her.

Man, does my head hurt, was the first thought that struck him as he opened his eyes. Since arriving back at the Hollow, he had done nothing but sleep. Only vaguely did he remembered being dragged back, or whatever had happened at the borders. Bleeding and exhausted, he had welcomed sleep with open arms, as if it were a long lost lover. Entwined in the crook of Sleep's soft body, back in the earthy cavern of the den, he felt truly safe in a way he hadn't felt since leaving human society. When he had plunged down in to the sable underground, he almost wanted to cry out of joy. This was home. The new-born heathen reveled and tunneled in the dirt, rejoicing in the world, in familiarity.

But now he was awake, and there was a war drum in his head. Anxiety was a drumstick that beat away at his heart, and no matter how he wished he could go back to sleep, he knew it had been chased away. For a moment he simply lay there, gazing at the feeble light that spilled over the lip of the den, a confused look on his face. Suddenly, he didn't feel so comfortable here. A lifetime of memories came rushing back to the foreground, and he was assaulted by a montage of moving pictures: being cornered and attacked by these wolves, that little black one he had vomited on, brutal barbarianism. He looked down at himself and realized he was still covered in blood and caked in dirt. Unclean. A new wave of fear overtook him. Forgive me, forgive me. But who was he asking for forgiveness? Once again he was struck with confusion, suddenly at a lost.

"Aisling!"

The word went straight through him like a lance, like a hammer on the war drum in his head. Aisling? Aisling wasn't here, was she? He had been asleep when Jayse had brought her back to the Hollow. His heart beat faster. Aisling? Why did he feel so afraid... and was that... that was anger that pounded in his heart. Pangur. He had to see it with his own eyes. That... that... girl he had spent months chasing after, that God who had abandoned him. (Does he hate me now? Am I doomed? Is this real?). Even if he couldn't find his feet or strength, he somehow managed to crawl up the mouth of the den.

Brilliant sunbeams flooded his eyes, and he staggered slightly, his heart in his throat. The war drum pounded harder. Was that really her, standing in front of him? He wanted to smile.... but the corners of his mouth snagged suddenly on the jagged red marks on her coat, on the coarseness of her face. Confusion ripped him wide open, but the godless wolf stared at her evenly, almost coldly. Some other part of him must have spoken to her, because this part of him was so much calmer, smoother, "Oh, so you're back now?" The words were slow, dry as they crawled out of his sandpaper throat. The atmosphere was tense, awkward.

Abruptly, he saw a tawny scrap of fur walking towards Aisling. His heart leaped as he recognized her. Trisden! For her, there was no reservation or skeptical glares. In a moment he forgot his injuries, so swept up in glorious love for this young little girl that looked so grown up. He took a bounding leap towards her, and although his foreleg didn't quite hold him, he only faltered slightly. "Trisden!"

Aisling's vaguely hostile reaction to the cry was only faintly acknowledged, for something quickly happened to distract Trisden from her goal; from the den appeared a wonderfully familiar face, made all the better because he was actually conscious. Trisden had slept warily close to Kiche the night before, afraid to get too close to the wolf lest her mother worry, but too concerned herself for the returnee not to.

To see Kiche awake and mostly well was a grateful relief, although the temporary bitterness he offered to Aisling was troublesome. Trisden had thought them to be very close, but it didn't matter; soon Kiche's attention was redirected and his face lit up, and Trisden, who had been holding herself back for worry that Kiche was all different too, beamed and bounded forwards to meet him.

He was smaller than she remembered, or maybe she was just getting bigger far too fast, but she buried her nose in the fur on his chest, happy for this childhood reminder. Oh, she had loved him so dearly - probably the most out of all her siblings. "You're awake," she stated obviously, simply conveying her delight at this development. Somewhere behind her, Aisling's words rang hollow in comparison, but because they were not directed at her, Trisden left them for Kiche to deal with. "Do you hurt? I sawed you limp," she said with concern, pulling back to glance down at his battered leg. She knew he wasn't a fan of savage means of care, but she so wanted to help clean him... perhaps he would know what was best.