The blazing sun beat down steadily over the lowlands, casting everything in a sharp light, bright enough, surely, to hurt the eyes of creatures even more accustomed to daylight, than the young wolf who was presently lazing in its warmth. He kept his own spring-greens narrowed to minute slits, observing the tundra only perfunctory from atop the flat rock serving as his nest, the sandy tip of his tail flicking like that of a dissatisfied cat. A strange kind of boredom had seized hold of the yearling recently; things in the Fields were peaceful, the arrival of the new pups bringing a sense of serenity and renewed community to the pack, with the worst of the grief now left behind.

But Gale was left unsettled. Not because he opposed the new additions, yet he wasn’t entirely sure what to feel; these weren’t his siblings and their birth seemed to cement the change in leadership. It was a kind of thinking so like his father’s, it made the boy grimace, anh odd wave of mixed pain and ire washing over him; Get out of my head! Drestig was dead and buried, he had no place sneaking into his thoughts like this; You’re gone..! The boy growled lowly, shifting on his perch to try and dispel the unwanted feelings. He’d given up on trying to be the perfect son a long time ago, he wasn’t about to start now when the reason was so thoroughly lost.

Word count: 244