He felt bad. While he had never had a very close relationship with his father—or his mother, for that matter—Sachiel still felt guilty for feeling more at home at the shallows. Here was his father, knocking on the doorstep of his new pack, who had spent two months searching for him. And Sachiel had announced that he did not plan on leaving. His father went blue, dripping with tendrils of denim as a sullen expression rolled onto his dark features. The boy’s mouth curved into a soft frown as he observed his father, his stomach twisting and knotting as Draven spoke, a question somersaulting off his tongue and filling the space between them. Are you happy here? He nodded in response, his own tongue unable to move. He was beyond happy here. For the first time Sachiel felt like he belonged—as though he was supposed to end up in the northern forest. Really happy, he hummed, further confirming his response as he met his father’s emerald gaze, his paws shifting once more.
I-I’m sorry, he blubbered once more, his ears falling against his skull as Draven spoke once more. Again, he nodded. Of course he was. Sachiel did not know if he wanted his father to seek acceptance into the shallows (mostly because he did not know if Askan would allow him to join) but he wasn't sure if he wanted Draven to leave either. O-okay, he answered, his nose tipping to the side. If she doesn’t you could come back, he offered with a lazy shrug, unsure of whether his father would take him up on his offer. I wouldn’t mind visiting, though. I’m sure Askan would be okay with it. He offered the darker Leigh a weak smile, his tail wagging slowly behind him.