His daughter had left to go on a (hopefully brief) mission of her own and his son was still avoiding him, often spending most of his time outside of Hearthwood. A deep, dark line cut across his maw, ears falling at the thought. It was moments like this when he wished that Naia had not succumbed to childbirth. She would know exactly how to handle the trouble twins. Lachesis, on the other paw, was utterly lost. As he worked frantically to ensure that the river wolves had a feature, he was also working toward being a better father—and struggling.

Unlike his son, the healer spent most of his time either in the lowlands or close to river territory. Most of the time he was searching for prey and medicinal plants—studying the herds and seeing if more snow had thawed, releasing the herbs from winter’s frigid grasp. He was also searching for loners. Wolves who had meandered down from the lands north of the tundra, or escaped the forests of the south. Hearthwood was small, but they were stable. For now. The only thing that would secure their future in the lowlands was acquiring more members, for puppies did not appear to be in the forecast for the river wolves. Probably a good thing, he thought, glumly to himself, can barely handle the two I have now.

A familiar scent, paired with an equally familiar call, pulled him away from his thoughts. Immediately his pace quickened, his slender body weaving through the trees. It had been quite time since he had seen the pale healer—too long. Lachesis was pleased to discover that the scent of Wild Rye did not cling to the blue-eyed male’s pelt. The Notch wolves, like Hearthwood, kept to themselves, so XIX had no quarrels with them. He was, however, curious as to what caused Emrys to visit. Had something happened in White Fir Notch? Confused, but delighted, to see the blue-eyed wolf Lachesis approached the edge of his territory with his tail wagging softly behind him. “It’s good to see you,” he greeted warmly once he stopped, his lips pulled into a lazy smile. “How have you been?”

The white wolf’s presence was a comforting one. He was just as soft spoken as he had been when the two first met, which immediately put the older male at ease. Despite their pelts holding different scents, XIX trusted the wolf before him. Regardless of the packs they belonged to, healers shared an unspoken bond. It was important to be on good terms with other healers; to share herbs and knowledge. Even if White Fir and Hearthwood did not get along, Lachesis would still meet with his friend in the future. He could not turn his back on another healer—there was already too few of them, for the trade was not sought after by others.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” he responded warmly, his tail swaying invitingly behind him. “Now that I know where you are I can find you next time,” he added, commenting on the pack scent that clung to Emrys’ fur. While the leader was aware of where the Notch wolves resided, Lachesis had not yet made his way to their borders. Perhaps once spring settled into the Lore he would visit his quiet neighbours. And, if he was lucky, he would bump into Emrys (or Jynx) along the way.

“I have,” he answered quickly, a smile pulling the corners of his lips. “Winter has been surprisingly good to Hearthwood.” Health-wise, but not number-wise unfortunately. He hoped that would change once the warmer weather returned. “And you, how have you been?” Lachesis returned the question to the blue-eyed wolf, his head angled slightly to the side. He was curious as to what the healer had been up to since their last encounter. Too much time had passed since then.

Lachesis had been cooped up inside Hearthwood most of the winter, hovering by the borders and keeping close to the treeline. When he wasn’t lingering by the river, he often ventured south to the lake or kept to the edge of the tundra, maintaining a respectful distance between himself and the neighbouring packs. He tried not to poke his nose where it didn’t belong and did his best to keep to himself. Things were okay with the neighbours and he wanted to keep it that way.

“I’m happy for you,” he responded when Emrys announced that he had joined the White Fir pack. A little disappointed, maybe, but he certainly was happy for the blue-eyed healer. The best homes were always found by accident. A series of accidents had brought Lachesis to Maksim and the river wolves, and after shuffling around a few times he had finally found where he was meant to be. There would be no more shuffling around for the ghost—which was why he was so persistent on ensuring Hearthwood stayed afloat.

His ears twitched as the younger male began to speak once more, announcing that he was agreeing with pack life and that he had met /someone. A sly grin rolled onto his pale maw, his features softening in amusement. “You met someone, huh?” He gave the healer a sharp wink, his tail wagging gently behind him. “You’re right, pack life does agree with you,” he chuckled softly, his brows narrowing slightly. 

“I thought the same thing about myself,” the ghost admitted in response to the healer’s statement, a soft grin twisting at his lips. “Sometimes I still think that,” he chuffed, his apple-green eyes rolling gently, “and now I lead a pack. Funny how things work out.” Life on the reserve had not prepared him for what was outside the fences. XIX had been thrust out into the feral world unexpectedly and was fortunate to have things work out for him. Mostly because of the blue-eyed dove, who had since abandoned him. Despite her lengthening absence, he was still grateful toward her. There was a good chance the ghost would have returned to his birthplace if Anastasia had not taken him under her wing.

Jynx. The name caused his eas to twitch and a smile to spring across his pale features. “Jynx, huh?” He teased with a lighthearted wink, his peridot’s focused on the younger wolf. “Before she joined the Notch she was a river wolf, when we lived south of the expanse.” He paused, remembering the brief fling between the agouti and his raven nephew. She had changed since her time in Cut Rock—she was not the same wolf she had been during her stay in the river pack. They had unexpectedly crossed paths in the fall and the ghost was pleased to see her doing well, despite her jumping packs. He held nothing against her for the change.

“You could invite her to come along with you,” he suggested, his shoulder bumping against Emrys’. “Might keep your paws from wandering.” XIX flashed him another wink as his tail wagged softly behind him.