Caerus (almost)

[Thalia]

The twisted one stirred and Thorn Paw pulled himself to his heavy paws. A growl vibrated, teeth bared. A bound brought him close, his body pressed between Wyldfyre and the cursed tomb, the weight of his thick body knocking the two-leg back even as he’d already retreated in search of the comfort of pack. That was an improvement, at least. The pup’s tail tucked low, head bowed for correction. If you must apologise, then make it for always and forever returning to such a cursed place. Images unfurled of the young one being nosed away by a tireless elder. Nettles stung no matter how many times investigated.

A snarl curved his lip, stalking agitated.

First the forgetful one, and now the stone. He blamed the one for the other. The twisted one deserved nothing but eternal silence until its spirit shrivelled forgotten, and the sooner Wyldfyre made new memories of home to supplant these ugly roots the better. His head rose to swivel the horizon with nostrils flared, ears perked than flattened, checking for noise. The longer they stayed the more likely for some mishap. We should not linger. Tell me of your travels, brother.