Hearthwood River my name is lonely

@Matheo kinda bad starter?? sorry :C || mid-morning, Fog, 53 ° F, 12 ° C

LAIKE ARTEMIEVA

It wasn't often he lingered in the den but he assumed most of the River wolves would be out busying themselves around this time. So silently he settled near the mouth of the den in a laying position. This fog seemed to not want to release its grip on the land but that was fine by the large Artemieva. It was doing them a favor by being here. Hiding them from the rest of the world while they mourned and hiding them from the disaster that surely lingered.

Laike let out a soft sigh as his body shifted into the damp earth below. Fiery eyes shut as he enjoyed the silence. He would have to get up and tend to things soon, though. Perhaps check on @Inna to see if she needed anything. Round the borders to make sure that pesky cat wasn't going to come back anytime soon. The thought was enough to make his fur stand on end for a brief moment. "Settle down." He inwardly reminded himself. Things were fine in this moment. Here in the den.

Maybe he could slip in a short nap before he continued his dull day. Or perhaps he would just lay there like a limp bag of bones until he felt up to moving.

art by kydnt

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Limp bones was the only thing Mathéo felt like doing these days.  His eyes were tired.  His throat felt heavy and closed.  Even when some of the adults brought food back for him to eat, he couldn’t open his mouth to eat it.  If he did, he’d never get it past the lump in his throat.  His eyes were tired from all the tears – they still stung and burned, even though there were no tears left to cry.  It didn’t matter anyways.  His Mama wouldn’t come back, and there wasn’t a father for him to have.  Not one that he knew.  Not one that anyone knew.  Mama took it with her when she left.
 
So he was alone, because Risaela was different – because Inna and Lekalta were more different than that.  Because Oksana and Lav and Lil all had parents who loved them still.  His eyes were tired because he could not sleep – every time he closed his eyes, flashes of his mother’s broken body greeted him unbidden from the beyond.  She didn’t deserve that.  No deserved anything like that.  It hurt and he wished it would go away.  He wished she would come back.  He wished he could have told her that he loved her, and he didn’t want her to go.
 
His eyes were tired because his soul was tired, too.
 
A startled yelp escaped the young boy – a raspy sound at best – when Laike flopped nearby.  He hadn’t even noticed the adult, so wrapped up in his own consuming grief.  Sightless eyes blinked and stared until the wolf-like shape appeared.  He didn’t know this one, so he dropped his head, and followed suit.  Boneless.
 
Tired bones.  Tired eyes.  Tired soul.