Since they had put Kisla to rest in the Ethos the ghost had steered clear of the meadow, the faint scent of lavender still clinging to his pelt, reminding him of the grisly scene. He wished for it to be a dream. That he would wake up and the river matriarch would be lounging at the river’s edge, her emerald pools watching her children tumble about. But it wasn’t a dream—no, it was much worse than that.

Sleep still evaded him, only grasping hold of his body for a few moments before he was jerked awake. The stench of blood would fill his nostrils as he woke; his throat dry and chest heavy. The loss of his comrade (and co-lead) had hit him as hard as the death of her mate—the reason behind his presence in the river, Maksim. The former river king had given Lachesis and his blue-eyed dove a home and during the years they spent together, a friendship had blossomed, one formed out of mutual respect. Although he and Kisla had not been close until he took over some of Maksim’s duties, they, too, had developed a friendship and had worked well together over the past year. He trusted her, perhaps more than any other river wolf, and valued her opinions.

He did not know how he was going to do this without her. How he was going to lead Hearthwood without her.

With his chartreuse gaze fixated on the lazy river before him Lachesis considered his options, a frown cutting deep into his pale features. He could not imagine calling any other place home, as the pack had done well in the north and forged valuable alliances with the neighbouring packs. However, it was a place filled with death and constant reminders of the unfortunate events that had taken place below the redwoods. He had hope that they could reclaim the land as their own; that they could move forward and preserver, just as they always did. But did the others feel the same?

Did Risaela and Mathéo want to live where their mother had suffered a horrific death? Or Inna?

A lump formed, heavy, in his throat. His tail curled tight against his hindquarters as his toes drummed idly on the rock he was perched upon. Although the forest was still heavy with grief Lachesis knew he had to get the pack together; to ensure that everyone was doing better (than him). To show them that despite the tragedies that continued to plague them they were still a family and would remain that way until Hearthwood dissolved.

Without hesitation the ghost threw his nose to the sky, his voice hoarse from lack of use as he called for the pack, urging them to come together. The fog swirled around his ankles, attempting to comfort him as he fell silent once more. It did not work. Instead his brows drew together with concern, his frown reappearing.

He had not seen or heard much of the ebony Delaney since the matriarch’s untimely passing. The ghost had busied himself with his sorrows and, for the most part, had isolated himself from the rest of the pack. He assumed that the large male had been tending to the children, just as he always had. His feelings toward the self-proclaimed casanova were shifting and he was slowly accepting the male’s mannerisms. Aytigin was trying to make a name for himself in Hearthwood, doing whatever was necessary without complaint. He commended the male on his selflessness, for he frequently put the needs of his packmates (especially Inna’s) above himself.

The raven was not far behind, little Oksana trailing behind her. Upon her arrival she announced that Risaela was missing and Lachesis frowned with concern, his brows pinching together. The last time he had seen the little Tainn she had been distraught—and rightfully so. She had witnessed her mother’s death and did not know how to face the world without her. Truthfully, XIX did not expect the silver-eyed girl to show, but was still worried about her whereabouts. “I’m sure she’s alright,” Lachesis assured his sidekick, his chartreuse gaze softening despite the worry that still pounded in his chest.  

The Artemieva brothers followed behind the remaining Baranski, both acknowledging the leader silently. He nodded to both of them in greeting, his features softening as he, too, remained silent. The blue-eyed sparrow had announced she was going to be late with a distant howl and Lachesis was not surprised to learn that Lilliana was the cause when Lilya finally arrived. He smiled knowingly and touched her cheek in greeting before eying the group. Both Lavender and Mathéo were not present either, which did not bother him. Perhaps Risaela and her brother were together, seeking comfort in each other. And Lavender? There was a chance she had caught some of Lil’s itchy paws and wandered away from the river (temporarily).

Mace’s absence was unsettling. His frown deepened as he shifted his paws, his tail tight around his hindquarters. He had not seen much of the inky Attaya and he was beginning to wonder if he had disappeared like Otter. The pack’s numbers were dwindling and after losing two wolves with the death of his co-lead Lachesis could not help but worry. Was Hearthwood still the right place for them?

“Thank you for arriving so quickly,” he greeted with a small smile, his forehead smooth as he studied the small group before him. “This loss has been devastating, I know, but Hearthwood has always persevered. Unfortunately loss it not new to us,” he continued, the corners of his mouth dipping. “I have toyed around with the idea of moving Hearthwood, to start fresh, but I don't know if that would help. I don’t know if that’s what you would want,” he added, motioning to his packmates with a flick of his nose, “as Hearthwood has been our home for over two years now.”