A sinking feeling grew in her stomach as each day passed and her father didn't reappear. She was pacing the borders now, fur damp from the spray that continued to shoot in her direction from the edge of the river. There was a slowly tensing knot in her core that told her warmer weather was on the way. The season pushed and pulled at her in ways she had never felt before, her tail flagging high up over her back, steps stiff and sure as she set out into the wildwood, then returned time and time again as if tethered to the borders by a rubber band. Now wasn't the time to go tearing across the countryside. Her father was a grown man and probably just laying low to avoid the chaos that he would know was coming with the spring, surely?
He wouldn't leave them alone, not like their mother had. Not if he could help it. Would he?