It'd been a long time since Lark had seen Starling. Saying that he was over his brother's disappearance wasn't exactly true, but things had grown easier. It was his choice to leave, and his loss - especially after how he had acted before leaving this last time. He tried not to mull over it too much, though his walk seemed never-ending and the things he wanted to think about were growing far and few between. It seemed his mind kept wandering to Lillianna, though he tried to push these confusing thoughts from his head. He was quiet as he walked on this pleasant spring afternoon, north and away from more familiar lands. Feeling a bit more parched than he realized, he found himself searching for water. He hadn't expected to find such a large lake, but it worked either way. With ease, the male would make his way to the lake's edge, feeling somber as he tipped his head down and began to drink.

He missed them. No matter how far away he wandered, he always drew closer and closer to where home was. He could now say this with certainty; home was Abaven, and he had been a fool to not realize it sooner. He did not regret the long, winding trail he took back from the North; Boreas was truly a beautiful land, and was plentiful too. It offered much for his desires and his craft - which thankfully coincided to be the same thing. He liked his flowers, after all. Well, and stems. He eyed the horsetail and chuckled quietly. There was so much here, but that wasn't what he was looking for. He was looking for Ginseng, a rare herb that he needed to gather at least a bit of, for its usefulness. It could be used for elder wolves, especially, but for pups too. Both were more susceptible to sickness, and elders in particular could use the energy it gave. He could think of no one who could use it immediately, but who knows... maybe someone in Abaven was about to give birth? He chuckled again, this time a bit sadly. He'd been gone for so long... he didn't even know what could possibly have happened. A soft chirp sounded ahead, and he glanced up and paused in his search to smile up at Stella, who flew above him. "Thanks. We're almost home, Stella," he told her, and she let out an excited trill. She didn't really talk much, but she always seemed to know how he was feeling, and what to do. He chuckled, and resumed his search, rounding a particular thick patch of vegetation, completely oblivious to Lark who was nearby and within clear sight. Nope, his nose was in the dirt, looking for one single thing - ginseng. Which, to his luck, he just found. He let out a loud cry of triumph. "Look, Stella!" He laughed joyously, and backed away a bit from the ginseng. He'd have to extract it carefully; he needed the root, after all. He definitely didn't want to lose any part of it. He was lucky enough as is to find it. "Talk"" | "Italian"

Lark didn't like to sit and mull over things for too long, though it seemed he did it far too often these days. After he finished drinking, he would lower his upper body to the earth, settling down with a soft grunt. Steady hazel gaze was fixed on his reflection in the lake for a long while. He was only arrested from his aimless thoughts when he heard a familiar sound in the distance. It wasn't discernible at first, and warily he would lift his head and search for the source of the noise. A bird, followed by a faint voice, in the not-so-far distance. Nose twitched as he sniffed at the air. After a moment, it hit him; it was Starling. It'd been a long time.. way too long.. and he felt suddenly stunned, at a loss for what to do or what he might say. When Starling came into view, he frowned. As always, he was oblivious to everything but the ground below his paws. That was how he'd been for so long, and probably one of the reasons Lark had thought he was so selfish. Caring more about his stupid plants than about his own family. "Still can't get your nose out of the dirt, I see?" he'd call out loudly, a bit sharply, though his deep voice was tinged with hurt he didn't bother to hide.

He remained absolutely, undeniably oblivious to Lark, even though he was so close. Instead, his nose was filled with the scent of dirt and ginseng. He was so happy to have found some; he secretly hoped that there were indeed pups in Abaven, now. "I can't believe we found some, Stella!," he chirped himself, tail wagging, and he laughed again, happily - that is, until Lark's voice cut through it. Limb that were previously relaxed, tensed as he leaped away from the ginseng, his head snapping up... to be met with a face that he certainly did not want to see. His entire body stiffened, all traces of the joy that previously sufficed him utterly gone. He heard the hurt in his brother's tone, and saw it in the sharpness of his gaze. Quickly, Starling glanced away, ears flattening. "L-Lark." If only he was able to retort with something friendly, with something silly and nice. He could any other time but not - not to Lark. Just something like 'nope, pretty sure I grew out of it' but no, he couldn't, he just... he just couldn't. Instead he stood there stiffly, ears flattened, not knowing what to do. Apologize? He did that so much lately. But he had to start somewhere, right? "I-I'm s-s-sorry," he murmured, bowing his head, all the while cursing his infernal stutter. He was doing just fine! Why did it have to act up now? But he knew - he was being confronted, finally, for his idiocy, and he wanted to run away like every other time, but he couldn't do that. Not again. "I w-was an idiot," he confessed, hanigng his head. But no - he had to face Lark. But why was it so damned hard? He sighed quietly, lifting his head to stare into Lark's eyes, with his own filled with tears. Not knowing where to start, he simply switched to the language he never had a problem in - a safe language, one that he was comforted in. "So quello che ho fatto. Ero ... ti ho fatto male con la mia stupidità." It was the truth, and nothing but. He finally did realize it, though it took so long for him to do so. "Talk" | "Italian"

It wasn't a bad thing that Starling was so obsessed with his herbs. Their family needed a healer - and being so interested in one thing wasn't such a bad thing. But bitter feelings flooded him suddenly, and he felt a vile taste in his mouth as his stomach clenched tightly. His hazel gaze was sharp and almost impatient, demanding answers; but he could never get truly angry at any of his family. Perhaps he might snap, might say a few hurtful words - but anything more than that was unthinkable. "Starling," he'd reply quickly, wondering what his brother might have to say. Hearing his apology so quickly was surprising. Was he really sorry? For how he had acted? Or just sorry that his family had called him out on it? His jaws clenched as he stared and waited for more. His eyes welled up with tears, though he couldn't tell if Starling was simply upset that he'd been confronted, but he seemed genuinely sorry. He even admitted that he'd been an idiot.  "Yeah, you have," he said, though his voice had lost its sharp edge. Instead, it'd been replaced with a soft, confused sort of somberness. "Non sei stupido." Lark said firmly, his brows tugging together tightly in slight frustration.  "Hai appena fatto una cosa stupida." And.. what now? He eyed his brother, slowly bringing himself to sit on his haunches rather than lay down.

The sharp tone of Lark's voice when his name was spoken made him cringe quietly, and the words after that made him bow his head. He knew the truth, but it still somehow hurt to have it admitted aloud. He regretted so much, but he couldn't do anything about it now, could he? Just move on, prove himself, and hopefully regain the trust of his family. He knew... he knew they still loved him. That dark part of his mind battled him for that knowledge; it tried to demand how could they possibly love him still after what he'd done, but he fought it stubbornly, a bitter anger towards that side of him that was not wholly gone. He expected to battle it for a long time. But he would do it, starting here and now. The smooth sound of Italian made his head rise again, and Lark's words actually made him shake his head and chuckle. "Poi che era un sacco di cose stupide!" he laughed.. "No, sono stato stupido. Azioni e me stesso. Ma ho imparato da questi errori, e io non sono più stupidi," he gently corrected, feeling much more relaxed as the soothing tongue of Italian met his ears, and te affirmation that his brother still dearly cared for him.   He approached Lark as the other man sat down, and he reached out to bump his nose against Lark's shoulder in an affectionate and familial greeting. "Grazie per ancora amarmi, e la cura, caro fratello. E per bussare senso nella mia testa!" The last part was said with a gentle chuckle, though that chuckle faded quickly as he caught a whiff of something that he... was not expecting. Confusion knitting his brows together, he stepped back away from Lark and stared at him, his head tilted. "È ... puzzi come Lillie?" He wasn't sure which was stronger: his horror or his shock. Why did his brother smell like her. What? Oh god, what if - he tried desperately t shut that line of thought out of his head, but it failed miserably. What if someone in the pack was about to give birth? What if it was Lillie? The thought of his brother doing anything like that with anyone was enough for him to shake his head of that thought; the only thing more horrifying was thinking of his dad doing that. Ugh. Let's not go there, either. Nope nope. Instead he just stared at Lark with that same baffled expression, and wide, disbelieving eyes. "Talk" | "Italian"

When he first spoke, he half-expected Starling to leave - like he always seemed to do these days. Though his words were a bit firm, even scathing, he wasn't trying to be rude. He was being honest, as he had before, though his brother hadn't taken his words well. Now, at least he seemed to listen. His head drooped, and he swore he saw him cringe, if only slightly. Despite the tension that began to build inside his chest, he couldn't help but laugh lightly at Starling's words. "Sì, molte cose stupide," he agreed fluidly. His own Italian was not nearly as flawless as Starling's. It hadn't been terribly interesting to him growing up, but it seemed far more important now that he was older. He was happy to talk to Starling this way, since it seemed easier for him, for a reason he never had begun to grasp. Lark was surprised that Starling actually admitted he'd learned from his mistakes. "We miss you at home, you know," he stated tenderly as Starling moved to press into his shoulder. The touch was comforting, and he felt a warmth swell in his chest. "E io ti amerò sempre, Starling." Family had always meant the world to him, no matter what. Family before everything. It was his own private mantra, and one he knew he would never relinquish. "Ma si dovrebbe davvero tornare a casa ora. Abbiamo bisogno di te. Ognuno ti perdonerà." A lot had changed - and things felt lonelier now that they knew for certain their mother would never be welcomed home again, even if she tried. He tried to stifle a forlorn sign from leaving his throat. The topic shifted suddenly, though, and he felt Starling retract. Lillie? What? His own brows pulled together as he regarded him with a confused look. "I..." he started, his tone a bit defensive - why, of all things, did he need to bring that up? "So what?" Why did it matter? It was the last thing he wanted to talk about, especially with his brother, and he wrinkled his nose as he regarded him.

When he heard and saw his brother laugh, something inside of Starling just broke. He missed making his family smile, laugh. IT's been so long since he heard any of that; the last several encounters with his family had been nothing but sorrow and anger. Seeing a bit of lightheartedness caused him to have to blink away tears. It was getting harder to do so, though, as Lark reaffirmed his love for his brother, and Starling smiled. "I think you're right," he whispered, feeling his body relax as he leaned against Lark. "It's time to go home." He needed them, all of them, around him. He needed their support, their love - and they needed it too, he thought. He'd been gone to long. Way too long. A fierce longing to see his dad, to run to him and hug him arose within him, and the same yearning arose for each of his siblings, even the younger ones. That smile turned sad - he didn't know his younger siblings all that well, and that was because he had been too self-absorbed and stupid to pay any attention to them. He needed to change that. Even if none of them were interested in herbs, he could still try to be a role model for them. He could still teach them things, and teach them that the family loves them no matter what. That making mistakes was okay. Enforce it, too, so maybe they could avoid what he went through, though most of it was his own stupidity. He knew his family loved him no matter what. He knew that some failure was okay. But one part of him argued, one part of him disagreed, and that one part of him took over and nearly destroyed his relationships with his brothers and sisters and their dad. He would never let that happen again. When he pulled away, though, all those thoughts vanished and he was left simply staring at Lark... who was... getting defensive. Lark's 'so what?' was challenging, and Starling's ears flattened as he made a split decision: he did not want to know. "I, uhh, I j-just wasn't e-expecting it," he stuttered, glancing away. Nope, nope, nope, he did not want to know. He also had no idea hwo to shift the conversation again, and so he stood there awkwardly, and feeling more awkward by the second. "Talk" | "Italian"