Whisper Marsh you see colours

For @Attica~ Really fought myself to get this in here because I would like for her to "come home" to WR with her father if possible. :/

but it's nearly 5 A.M.

And in the haze you see colours
And problems suddenly make sense.
But the way you've been going
You'll be in an early grave.
And you don't know what you've got until it's gone.
And you don't know who to love until you're lost.
And you don't know how to feel until the moment past.
I wish you'd live like you're made of glass.
-- Amber Run, "5 AM"

---

July 10th; Northern Drooping Willows near edges of Whisper Marsh; Near sunrise; Cloudless skies; 75 ° F, 24 ° C.

If the Old Gods had been merciful, Skoll Archer would have been granted pardon for his misdeeds, given second chances... anything to set him back on his feet and in the right direction to recovering from the fallout the absence of @Hecate and @Morganna had caused. So far, this had been what was possibly the tenth attempt to leave Willow Ridge and patrol the outer territories, only to stare out into the edges of the marsh. His lips twitched in remorse, cursing himself for letting Hecate go in the first place. For being stupid and selfish. Perhaps if he hadn't gone off with that Catori woman, he - they - would have been fine.

After some time, he let his feet drag through the cool soil and touch his nose to the tips of the reeds on the shore. If he hadn't felt so empty, so easily persuaded by the simplest of things (like the whispering of the night breeze), he would have missed it. His silver eyes widened and he whipped about, his gaze penetrating through the shadows at the bases of the trees. Was that a squeak? His ears swiveled to the side before coming forward again and he thought back to the child he had been torn away from. How long had it been now since he had been there? His teeth clenched, his heart hitched in his throat. It was about time that the ancient deities showed him any kindness...

As he went, he had to stop several times over, the realization sinking in halfway there when he noticed that he was actually trailing his son @Sven's old scent trail. Skoll swept his nose across the ground, half-allowing it to lead him to where he thought he had found the river bank den while his muscle memory struggled to kick in. It wasn't until he found the river that he stopped, striding up the water's edge until he thought he found the tunnel. Maybe he would be lucky this time.

He let out a summoning sort of chuff - a bark that was mostly air than vocal chords - then a low whimper. Hecate might have been a woman to be reckoned with, but Skoll Archer was not afraid and, most importantly, he was still just selfish enough to try again to take what was his. The cub he had almost stolen away that very first night he had come here had Archer blood in their veins; and, just like Sven, those cubs belonged within Willow Ridge with their father rather than with their wayward mothers.

Skoll wistfully glanced at the dilapidated entryway that was the tunnel into the old burrow, unsure now just how long ago Hecate had inhabited the area. He could only hope that the litter had survived; even if it was just one... Just one would be enough. A reminder of what he and his kestrel had together once upon a time.

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

It was not unusual for Attica to wake alone, but that did not change her longing for company. Her mother and brother were all that she knew (other than that red wolf that one day), so that responsibility had been sitting entirely on their shoulders. Her brother gave her the most entertainment, and her mother gave her the most comfort. Milk and play were the most important things to the young Archer princess, and she was never getting enough of either of them. She had managed to whittle down her worn chewing stick down to a more worn chewing stick, her tiny teeth doing deadly damage -- a new power that she revelled in. 

A soft, familiar call pulled the sooty girl from her slumber. Her unchanging blue eyes opened slowly, whatever remaining moonlight sifting into the den reflecting off of them. She lifted her head, bending it over her shoulder lazily to look at the opening of the den. At least, she was pretty sure she had heard something. Was it mother returning to her? It was so dark still.. When a whine was heard, it perked the Archer into a stumbling sitting position. She was nearer the opening of the den now, though the warmth and darkness of her bed discouraged her from leaving it. If it was just her mother returning, she would come in to sleep anyway, right? The idea of her mother's milk gave the cub's stomach growls, and she waited expectantly inside the opening of the den, not entirely keen on fighting off the last remnants of her sleepiness just yet.

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity