More snow had arrived since his last visit over the mountain, making the trek a little more difficult this time around. But he knew the freezing temperatures and cracked paws would be worth it once he reached the edge of the ridge territory. Maeve had matched his pace and, truthfully, it was nice to have company. Even if she was doing most (if not all) of the talking. She had made the trek over the mountain, too, so it also helped having a second pair of eyes. The south was still foreign territory to the tundra boy and it would take some time for him to adjust to the different terrain. Especially the mountain, for the monadnock paled in comparison to the rugged chunk of stone.

Piety had not been happy about his decision to venture west but she had complied, for she knew that he would have gone regardless of her opinion. It had helped that he wasn’t going alone, for Cyril wondered if his mother feared that he wouldn’t return. He couldn’t leave her. Not after everything they had been together. But he had also made a promise to the girl and he intended to keep it. Plus, he wanted to make sure that she did not have any issues settling back into the willows.

He had (silently) announced that he was heading toward the borders, leaving it up to Maeve to join him if she wanted to. Cyril did not know if she had any business with the ridge wolves or if she had just wanted to come along for the ride. He wouldn’t protest if she wanted to accompany him, as she had already joined him this far.

As he arrived at the edge of Ridge territory he hesitated, his forepaws shuffling across the snow-dusted ground nervously. He had already made it this far—there was no turning back now. Tossing his nose to the sky he called for only one wolf and would not accept the presence of another. If any other Ridge wolves decided to grace him with their presence he would leave, as he was not interested in exchanging pleasantries. He just wanted to see his friend.

He waited, nervously, with a frown cut deep into his dark lips. Would she even care that he had come to visit, or had she already gone back to her former life and forgotten about him? The thought caused him to take a few steps back, his tail flicking with uncertainty. What if he was greeted by his brother—the brother he never knew existed until recently (thanks to Morganna’s big, informative mouth). Or, what if another approached, asking him to leave. Announcing that Adeltra did not want to see him again. That he was not welcome.

He took another step back, his yellow eyes blinking feverishly to eliminate the wave of negative thoughts that consumed him. Crashing down; drowning him.

A shadow moved in the distance, causing his ears to flatten against the back of his skull. But as he shadow grew bigger he recognized the amber pools floating amongst all the ebony. She flung herself into his plush winter pelt, her nose prodding his thin body as she (thoroughly) inspected him. A low whine escaped him as he leaned into her, his cheek pressed against hers for a moment before she pulled away, a wide grin perched effortlessly against her dark maw. A series of questioned tumbled from her mouth, but they did not catch him off guard. He had been expecting (hoping for) such a response.

Cyril shrugged in response to her first question, for he wasn’t really sure how he was. So much too quickly and the sullen Kael was still struggling to adjust. Especially since he had left the tundra for trees. As for the settling down… Sort of. His voice cracked from lack of use, hoarse and brittle as it caressed the cold air. Quaking Vale, he added as further explanation, his tongue feeling weird in his mouth. Not talking had been so easy. Now it felt weird; unnatural. Don’t like it. Another shrug. But he was staying for his mother. Which was why his visit to the west was only just that—a visit. 

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until she collided with him and her familiar comforting scent consumed him. A sigh of relief escaped him, his shoulders suddenly feeling lighter. It was strange how close they had gotten in the short amount of time they’d spent together. The sullen Kael had spent time with other cubs in the north but he hadn’t clicked with any of them like he had with Adeltra.

At least being in the south meant he was closer to her… there had to be some sort of silver lining to all the grief that consumed him.

His ears twitched at the sound of Maeve shuffling backward, his cheeks flushing warm crimson beneath his obsidian fur. In all of his nervousness and excitement Cyril had nearly forgotten about her. She had been the perfect travel companion, even if she did talk a little too much, but he supposed that was because he’d barely spoken at all. He should have warned her that the end result wasn’t going to be as exciting as she hoped. That it was a personal visit, not business or leisure. Poor Maeve.

What’s wrong with it?

The concern was evident in her voice, earning a small frown from the yellow-eyed boy. His tail twitched. It’s not home, he responded in a low voice, his ears swept back against the back of his skull. Cyril didn't know if anything would feel like home again—not after he watched his father die on home soil. Don’t know anyone. Nor did he care to get to know the wolves of the Vale. Except for Maeve, who had forced her way into his life.

The next question was one he’d been expecting, to which he answered with a sharp nod. Offered to come, he answered with a shrug, his expression neutral as he glanced over at his travel companion. Didn’t want mom to worry, he added as his yellow gaze swept back to his ebony friend, the corners of his mouth pinched tight. He hated the sound of his voice after being silent for so long, but talking to Adeltra was easy. Even if it made his tongue dry and his head spin.

He felt bad for the girl from the Vale—unknowingly accompanying him on a social visit because he hadn’t explained himself properly. But he hadn’t felt like talking much. The boy had been too focused on seeing his friend to divulge information with the silver girl. Oops. Perhaps, on the way back, he would talk a little more. Part of him felt bad for the conversation being one-sided, but part of him didn’t care. He didn’t even know if he planned on sticking around the Vale—was making friends, or acquaintances, worth it?

Adeltra appeared to be doing better. She was not as lean as she had been during her stay in the north and she looked… happy? content? Being home was a good look for her, Cyril only wished he could feel the same as she did. His home had been torn away from him by the antlers of a rogue deer. He didn’t know if he ever wanted to see the monadnock again, for the place was laced with memories of his father. Memories still too painful to bring to the surface.

Okay, he answered softly, his yellow gaze falling away from her dark features, Better. His mother was certainly much stronger than he was, or she was putting on a good face. It seemed the pale woman was happy-ish to be in the Vale, so close to her friend Morganna. But she seemed tired—tired of travelling and tired of not knowing where to go or what to do. It was a conversation waiting to happen once he returned to the other side of the mountain. How are you? He asked, wanting to shift the topic away from him and onto her. Her well-being was the reason behind the visit. Cyril wanted to make sure she was happy being home.