It was a long, restless night in the pack den – even if it was still the wee hours when he peeled his eyes open and hauled his bulk right out of the opening into the chill of the raging storm.  Perhaps it couldn’t be classified as a blizzard any longer, but it was still quite chilly, and the snow continued to fall at a rather alarming rate.  It was no longer walking across the snowpack, but rather wading through the truly absurd fall from the night and days before.  Thank goodness there were no puppies now.  The snow was so high, the children would have been buried a few times over!

Absently, he wondered what Felix and Ophelia thought of this madness – not just of the snow, but the clear lack of organization between their parents.  But had they ever known anything different?  The litter had still been rather small when Rook had left to join the other Lyalls up at Renegade’s Reach, and he hadn’t returned until they were gangly, awkward youths, no longer true puppies.  Oula too, had disappeared when the children were still growing.  Still children.  And she too came back, around the same time as Rook had – but for what, he sometimes wondered.  Why?

 
Joan still vanished.  Rook and Oula returned, and that was not enough to keep Joan from wandering off, and that was not enough for anyone in the pack to find his eldest, either.  It was as if she’d simply blinked off the face of the earth altogether.  As if she had not come to harm, but ceased to exist all together, as if she was never there at all.  The very thought made his heart throb – he could only hope she’d found her way somewhere outside the forest.  Somewhere it was warmer, with less blasted snow.  Somewhere spring had arrived properly, once and for all, where she was warm and happy, with a full belly, and a safe place to sleep.

 
Oula had still been kidnapped, albeit briefly.  She’d gone looking for their daughter, and while it was a small relief that the man who’d taken the gamma had not taken the first-born Macieo as well, it did not change the fact that she’d been kept from Grizzly Hollow against her will.  How she had escaped, he still was not entirely sure – had been thoughtful.  Careful.  Perhaps he had been too worried, treated her like she was more delicate than she actually was.  Assumed she did not want children again; clearly, this was what assumption got him.  She’d gone out and mated with a random lone male of all things!  When she’d left her own brood once already.  When she hadn’t shown a great deal of interest in Joan, Felix, and Ophelia once they had been weaned.  He had so many questions, and couldn’t put words to any of them.  But it wasn’t his place to ask or demand answers – that was not their arrangement.  It was a one-time deal.

 
Ah, but he had thought they were friends.  That they were able to talk about such things.  He had thought they were more than friends, but clearly, he had thought incorrectly.

 
Veho continued to plough forward, trying to shake the dark thoughts from his mind as he worked his way towards the border.  It was utterly exhausting this work, and he hadn’t even gotten there.  His wet ears flattened against his skull and he snorted softly, not enjoying the thick snow still falling from the clouds above.  Briefly, he glanced up (and immediately regret that particular decision), squinting at the dark and gloomy sky.  Perhaps the weather was mirroring his own mood.  Or was his mood mirroring the awful weather?  A far more likely case.  It was sheer hubris, to think he had any effect on the nature around him.  He huffed again and bowed his head, continuing the painful trek towards the borders.  Why the borders, he found himself wondering.  Why did he always lurk there when Rook had gone to the trouble of seeking out and building a small, personal den, just for the pair of them? 

 
Oh, yes.

 
Because Rook was there.  It was so difficult to think clearly, even when his mate was not there.  The whole area still stunk of the man – and with that familiar smell came memories both fond and bittersweet.  Meeting upon the rocks one night.  Loving whispers and words shared, the birth of a relationship.  The guilt of Quil’s own disappearance.  The hurt that came every time Rook disappeared, the joy he felt every time his mate returned whole and unharmed.  The truth that he learned not from his partner himself, but the man’s older brother – information he shouldn’t have, and yet weighed heavily upon him now as he could not decide how to process it.  The pain that drove ever deeper when Rook inevitably disappeared once again – and the pain that came with all the ‘what ifs’ that swirled around him now like an unrelenting murder of crows.  Would Rook stay for Amaryllis’ puppies?  For their sake, he hoped the man did, but it did not fail to drive the throne a bit deeper into his chest, poisoning his blood all the more to think that for some reason, his litter was not worthy of such attention.  Would he disappear again, and leave Grizzly Hollow straddled with pups they would struggle to care for?  That was the only litter amongst the group that had a present father – never mind the others would already have to be working overtime to make sure Pip, Oula, and their children were provided for without the other half of the parental commitment.

 
Did Rook actually plan on telling him the meeting with the female alpha had gone beyond simply ‘being social’ or was that esoterica?  It wouldn’t be a secret forever – in a few days, Lily’s heat would end and she would add to the ever growing stench of pregnancy practically dropping from Grizzly Hollow’s border now – but why did he have to learn it from Oula?  When she wielded that information like a weapon, holding it close and brandishing to cause pain, to gain leverage – indeed she did, but Oula had her own brood to care about now.  Of course she went to Lily first.

 
Of course no one asked him.

 
Of course no one gave one single fuck what he thought on the matter, or what this might mean for Grizzly Hollow, or how they would struggle to handle this when the pups were born into the world.  When had they ever treated him as more than a resource when they were sick or hurting?  When that they ever shown him respect as an alpha?
 
Quil and Jynx and Yvly (and Oula too) – he envied those women for their freedom, for the wings they spread to fly away from the absolute well of chaos the cedar forest pack had become.  No wonder Grizzly Hollow had fallen once before.  No wonder Cut Rock River had abandoned this place.  It was probably cursed.  Tainted.  The land was sick.

 
Maybe he was sick.

 
Maybe this was all his fault.  He had not confirmed that Pip had understood what mating season brought, what the results of coupling with another wolf could be.  He had assumed her family had done this.  He had not terrorized the other wolves of breeding age in his pack.  They were all adults!  They should be able to make responsible decisions without a tyrant lording over them.  Amaryllis was free to make her own decisions, have her own pups, that was her right as alpha of the pack come springtime, but with his own mate?  Oh, to assume that Rook or Oula would do him the courtesy of discussion as he had done for those to before proceeding with any courses of action last year.  Hah!  He was such a fool.  He had brought this all upon himself.  He had thought to lead with respect and kindness and find it in return – and this is where he ended up.  His children were dispersing away (for which he could not blame them).  He was the last to know about any even relevant information about Grizzly Hollow or forces that might effect it for good or for ill.  Forget the notion that he be consulted before such drastic decisions were made – never mind how his own mate acted – despite that he was alpha, and had always been amenable to conversation before.

 
Veho’s eye twitched violently and something in his chest constricted tightly.  He couldn’t breath.  He came to a sudden halt, gasping violently as he struggled to quell the storm of anxiety and hurt swirling around deep inside his throat, but to little avail.  A moment later, he stumbled forward, retching the contents of his empty stomach onto the white snow.  The yellow bile stared back at him, already fading and disappearing beneath the blanket of snow, but--  He understood now.  He knew what he needed to do.

 
Once his breath had returned, the male turned in place, heading back towards the center of Grizzly Hollow grounds.  At the very least, most of his path was already plowed and broken through the extreme amounts of snow (even if his paw prints had already disappeared deep beneath the fall).  He trudged with no great speed, only determination, his ears flat against his skull and his flag held high above his haunches as he marched, shoulders set.  He would do this.  He must do this.  There was no turning back, not now, or there would be no Veho left in one or two moons from now.  They were killing him.  Slowly.  But his eyes had been opened now, perhaps the Ancestors were forced to intercede so violently for his lack of consultation lately, and his failure to act now would be no one’s fault but his own.

 
Once he reached the center of the pack grounds, not far from the communal denning site, he sat, and surveyed the empty forum.  This would be his last moment of peace, at least for a while – this would not be met with happiness, nor should it be.  So he closed his silver eyes and allowed the snow to fall over him then, enjoy the moment as it blanketed him.  Cleansed him.  He would start over.

 
Do not tether me, he once said.  And he had been yoked, saddled with the responsibility and leadership of Grizzly Hollow.  Once, he’d done it gladly for love.  But that love had been revoked, and even Veho Macieo could not operate forever on good will alone.  Perhaps it was good that Joan and Felix and Tomen had left, or had plans to leave.  Perhaps he would be able to convince Ophelia to do the same, and wipe all traces that he had ever been here.  Perhaps he could become the ghost his eldest daughter had become as well, and join her in her ethereal form.

 
Perhaps.  This was all very wishful thinking, and he was getting far ahead of himself.  Before he could spread his wings, he must he responsible at least one more time.  He was not like Rook Lyall and he was not like Quil Attaya and Yvly and Deacon and the sea wolves and all the others who’d come and gone so freely, with no thought or care to what they might do to the others who remained within the cedar forests.

 
Veho tipped his muzzle back and let his song echo through the trees.  A soft sound, low and mournful in tenor – but then he got ahold of himself, and the song strengthened and grew.  It was no longer a wistful cry, but it was a firm demand that booked no argument of any wolf remaining among the Grizzly Hollow pack.  They were to meet.  Now.  All members needed to discuss the coming crisis facing them, and all members must now face the music as to what Grizzly Hollow had become.

 
Consequences.  There would be consequences.