Tagg stretched, enjoying the feeling of having his full range of movement back. He was getting older, but he still considered himself on the young side. The faintly familiar tang of snow graced his nose, and he sighed. He’d been looking forward to finding his way back here for months.
As he crossed the familiar snow-covered terrain, Tagg remembered the first time he’d been there. He’d met Rift and Ceara, though both had disappeared long ago. He didn’t expect he’d ever find either of them again.
He crossed the river he’d gotten caught in when he and Rift had first gotten separated. He snorted at the memory; he’d been much careless then. He carefully marched over the ice, glad he didn’t break through again. This time would be different.
Tagg wondered about the pack; how were the pups? Had they survived their first winter? The days melted by and as he drew closer to their borders he began to feel anxiety gnawing his belly. Would they even be glad to see him? He had just gone out for a hunt, and ended up not coming back for more than a year. It wasn’t his fault he’d been ambushed by coyotes and drawn into a small war between them and a pack beyond Relic Lore’s boundaries. He would never have left if he’d had the choice. But they wouldn’t know that; why should they take him back? Why should they care?
He halted, the strong scent of the border finally at his feet. He hesitated. Much had changed since he'd been here last - he'd changed - but he still wanted to come. He still wanted to be part of this pack, if they would give him the chance. Taking a deep breath, Tagg threw back his head and let out a long howl, calling to Vespertio and Namid. He hoped they would come. He hoped even more that they would understand.
"Speech" Thought
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