Now that I'm coming home

How fitting that it would be a new moon as she approached the pack lands, silver dipped toes splaying as she struggled to maneuver the beaches’ surface. Once she had proudly floated across the sharp sand but now she stumbled, cut her paw and forced herself to keep trudging on. A part of her was screaming she shouldn’t be here… not anymore; but the pull of the sun, her sun, had been a constant force on her mind since she left and she was too weak to resist any longer. She was weak, and tired, and ragged. In truth she wasn’t sure if she really belonged anymore.

She had fallen suddenly ill and in a fit of fever had wandered away from the pack. By the time she had really come too she was lost and tired. From there things had devolved further, she wasn’t even exactly sure how long she had been gone but she knew it was much too long. Memories of that time were a haze of fever and weakness: hunger, thirst, lack of sleep. Even after the illness had run its course she had not sought her family out, embarrassment and wounded pride had kept her locked away in her found cage.

Sol… It had been her twin pounding around in her head that had finally dragged her from her self-imposed hell and she had walked for days on end, not even stopping to bask in the waning moonlight.