Just outside of his cave, Adelard lazed about. He settled his head on his paws, closing his eyes and remaining there until he had enough of waiting for the nap to come. On stiff joints, he got up and bowed down into a stretch. Rest after returning home had done him a bit of good, but the anxiety lingered. Towser had not come home; and, Adelard, being older, felt responsible. He had done everything in his power to defend the younger man and had forced the attacker to retreat. Every night when the Lyall did not return, Adelard had to remind himself. If Towser had been in worse condition, he would not have left him.
He meandered along one of Paradise Falls' many streams, repeating the fact over and over and over in his mind. Out along the marked borders, he came to a stop and scanned the spaces between the trees. His tail fell limp at his heels and he let loose a sullen sigh.
A tilt of his neck one way and then the other produced a small pop that brought his skull some relief. Then, after several moments of contemplation, he lifted his song to the last glimpses of the sunset pink skies. A small four-note call for the pack member the Falls had lost.