They're close enough to the borders that I thought it'd be simpler to post here, but they'll not be anywhere close to trespassing :)
Each step she took towards that mountain felt lighter. Every time she got a chance to look up and spot its peak through the trees, whenever a clearing opened the sky to her destination, the air was fresher and she could breathe easier. It was still days away, she knew, a long trek despite her goal teasing her with its constant presence, a carrot always held just out of reach. No stranger to mountain life, she anticipated the climb, though she wondered whether her feet would remember the path. She sometimes walked along the Heights in her mind, though at this point she was no longer sure if her memories held true to reality, or whether she had conjured up her own version of the mountain and its winding ways, all for herself. Would her feet, instead, remember the mountain range in Lacerta, the secret passageways she had learned there, and would her childhood lake feel foreign like Crystherium had done at first? Would it be changed, would the faces she remembered still be there, or would it be abandoned? Would new faces own the land she had been born in, unfamiliar names laying claim to familiar lands?
They bounced around in her head, Athena, Ash, Ava, Tlarx, Naira, Adonis, Datura... they were so many things as once, so many once-raw emotions, so much love and pain and confusion. She had been young, then, and the two years had eroded the emotions, made them easier to digest. Older, she could look back on herself as a child and empathise with the pain she recalled there. There had been no point in getting lost in the past when there had been a virile future waiting for her to grasp. Her future was here, now, beside her as she walked, and somewhere in the forest ahead, racing them to the mountain's top where her past lay.
She spoke less as they walked, the air surreal and silent without the bickering and life of her other three children. Duckweed had always been quiet in comparison, she knew, but somehow the difference was magnified in their absence, and where before he had seemed reclusive now she sometimes wondered if he was there at all. If he had been born black, she mused, he would have been a proper shadow, but instead he was destined to stand out, stark and pale, like his father, only without the exuberance, without the powerful presence. Always worried for him, Bella had hoped that this time together, alone, would help bring him out of his shell, without Snake and Fox to shut him down, but his meekness persisted. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she pondered it, teeth rubbing together, the only sounds their steady walking and breathing.
With the sun at its highest, and an unusual warmth in the air, when they happened upon a small pool the sight of it prodded at Bella's thirst. She glanced at her son, who looked wordlessly back, and she accepted yet another moment without discussion. Altering her path towards the water, the chocolate wolf dipped her head to lap at it, expecting Duckweed to do the same - instead, he lingered for a moment, then pushed on through the trees. She watched him go, wordless, and sighed. Let him have his moment alone, she would catch up easily.
Alone now, even if only for a minute, Duckweed breathed deeply, the air heavy in his chest. The sun beat down but his fur was thin and white and he felt cool, which was pretty much the only upside to the colour. With his mother's mountain directly ahead, an ominous figure he was forced to follow, his dark thoughts were easily distracted by a breeze carrying the thick scent of others, many others. He stopped, abruptly, his mother's warning flashing through his head, but he had crossed no lines; it was merely a hint of what was to come. Torn between curiosity and terror, both regarding the same thing, Duckweed chose to cautiously continue his path forwards, alert for the telltale signs of another's territory. He would not cross it, he told himself, he was only walking past. There was nothing wrong with that. The scent shifted to somewhere on his right, and became a constant presence, and he knew that he was skirting around their lands. Maybe he could slip inside and ask for sanctuary, and never take another step towards a mountain again.