The move to Whitestone was supposed to be temporary. A quick escape from the crumbling empire. It was the exit he had been waiting for after months of procrastination and waiting for the right moment. An amused expression stumbled onto his typically stoic exterior as he thought of how concerned Hecate had been once she discovered his plans on leaving. Clearly she hadn’t been too distraught, as she had found comfort in Skoll and gotten exactly what she had wanted out of the older Archer. Greer was thankful that his infatuation with the older female had been nothing more than just that—an infatuation. As far as he was concerned, the ghoulish wench was dead to him.

As his time on the monadnock lengthened Greer found himself growing more .. comfortable. Greer despised the feeling but could not muster up the courage to leave. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to leave anymore. His long legs were still able to stretch as he pursued the role of scout, which kept his wanderlust at bay. The shadow had found purpose here—something that the willows had never offered him.

The soft glow of the morning sun kissed the horizon, threatening to spill into the dark sky as the shadow streaked across the tundra. Greer debating going south, or poking around the Hearthwood borders, as he watched the clouds change from black to a soft, dove gray. He thoughts wandered to his little flame—what was she doing in the early glow of the morning? Had she managed to sleep through the night, or had sleep evaded her as well? His lips tightened, a frown forming. Thinking about her made Greer miss her—perhaps more than he should. His pace quickened, his tail swishing sharply behind him as he dismissed his thoughts and focused his mercury gaze on the trees in the distance. 

The older he became the more he wanted to detach himself from his emotions. To tuck them away, out of sight. But that meant not caring about his scarlet friend. Or his kin. Some of his kin he could do without—he had already left them behind in the willows—but he was not so sure he could shut Kyna out so easily. The shadow was still quite reserved with her, despite their blossoming relationfriendship. But he was trying. Trying to open up; trying to care. He did not know why—why she was so important, why he wanted to care. He just did.

His toes crunched through the snow, mercury gaze focused on the illuminated trees before him. He did not have a plan, which was not out of the ordinary. Often Greer let his legs do the work, unless he was instructed to scout a particular area, the shadow went as he pleased. Even with his reluctance to converse with strangers Greer would try to return with something—anything—that might be of use to his sister and the silver spider.

He was content in the lowlands. Change had good for the skeleton. The move wasn’t supposed to be permanent. Greer wanted to help his sister with the transition and be there for the birth of his niece and nephew. After that, he had planned to leave. Perhaps move south again, but this time on the eastern side of the mountains, or go further north. Beyond the tundra.

But he remained. He had grown comfortable. Leaving didn’t seem so appealing anymore.

Without warning he was hit by a familiar scent. His movement ceased as she spoke, his heart soaring as his name rolled off her tongue. A frown cut across his dark features, brows narrowing slightly at her question. He did not know how to answer—so in typical Greer-fashion, he didn’t. Instead he shrugged, his ears falling flat against his skull, as he pressed his nose to her cheek.

At first he thought he had done something wrong by not answering. Her scarlet body trembled, causing panic to explode through his veins. Immediately his ears fell back against his skull, his features softening. Guilt chased  hungrily after the panic—white hot as it consumed him, suffocating him.

But no words came. His tongue was dry, weighing heavy in his mouth, as his friend launched herself forward. The shadow blinked, dumbfounded by the girl buried in his shoulder, even more unsure of what to say. Then game the floodgates and Greer was lost. His heart thumped frantically in his chest as he threw his chin over Kyna’s shoulder in order to pull her in closer. While he wanted to say something—anything—to comfort her, he remained silent. Although tears dripped from her eyes she appeared content with her face pressed into his dark fur. He was not content, for his thoughts were racing, trying to figure out what could be upsetting his little flame, but it did not matter. Comforting her, even with his voice barricaded behind his sharp canines, was his first priority. Always.

After a pregnant pause she spoke, voice barely above a whisper as she cut through the silence. “Missed Ky,” he murmured in response, though the words were quickly drowned out by Kyna’s voice. She… she left? His brows furrowed as he (hesitantly) pulled away, his silver gaze focused on her fiery features. “Happened?” He asked softly as he pressed his nose to her cheek once more to encourage her to confide in him. The shadow knew that Kyna’s relationship with her mother had been strained, but what had happened to the forest? Was her leaving temporary or permanent? His mind throbbed with unanswered questions but his lips remained pressed together. The Archer was in no rush for answers—he just wanted to ensure that Kyna was all right.

It had taken her a moment, or two, to collect herself but he did not mind. Despite being an easily annoyed wolf he was uncharacteristically patient when it came to the little flame tucked into his fur. He would do anything for her, even if it did not align with the values of his kin. She was important—he did not know why, for he was still trying to work out the feelings that burned furiously within his chest, but he knew that much.

His forehead tightened as she began to speak, the story rolling off her tongue and filling the cold air between them. It appeared that her mother was not only power-hungry, a trait that was common among Archer’s, but desperate. His head fell to the side. But why? His jaws clenched as Kyna continued, admitting that she was no longer believed in the accident that her mother had told her about. His frown deepened as he studied her, words hesitating on the tip of his tongue as he contemplated on how to respond. There was no correct way to answer—Kyna was dealing with demons that he had not yet encountered. There was only so much comfort he could offer.

“I don’t know what to think.  What to do.  Where I belong.” The shadow whined empathetically at the flame’s words. “Ky belong where Ky want,” he offered after a brief silence, his chin resting atop her russet crown. “Blood not mean family. Ky ‘member?” He paused once more, his insides buzzing as words danced, effortlessly, off his tongue. The scarlet wolf was the only one that was capable of making him speak so much—both something he enjoyed and detested. “Ky have time. Not think yet.” Was he even helping? He could not help but frown, feeling as though his words were just taking up space.

A frown creased his dark features as she spoke. The scarlet wolf made a good point—did she even have time? Winter showed no signs of slowing down as the snow continued to pile up. How long would the girl survive on her own, without the comfort of a pack? His nose crinkled at the mention of Sahalie. It seemed odd that Kyna did not join her espresso-coloured friend, wherever it was that she went. They were close, weren’t they? His mouth became dry at the thought, his jaw clenched. So where would his little flame go?

His heart thumped at the idea of her joining him atop the monadnock but he did not want to suggest it. While Greer desperately wanted the two of them to be together he also wanted her to do whatever would make her happy. Because that mattered more. They had said they would be together, some day, when the time was right. His mercury eyes blinked at the thought—but when would that be? As soon as the thought entered his mind he dismissed it with a soft roll of his shoulders, his frown deepening as he studied the fiery girl. “No,” he started, quietly, his sonars still flat against his skull, “not stupid.” While he wanted to join her, he couldn’t. Not yet. Whitestone was more of a home than the willows had ever been. Even though pack life was of no interest to the lanky shadow, he belonged there. For now, at least.