Postcards and Polaroids

The boy was troubled - beyond troubled. Journeying up to the place of his mother's birth had been fascinating, but with it came knowledge that he wasn't quite certain how to take in. Aalon planned on making her own pack, and expected him to go with. He had agreed them, neutrally, keeping those fears to himself, but truth be told he wasn't so sure about the decision. Stay? Go? Every fiber in his body disagreed with the choice to go - how could he abandon his pack, his family? And yet... how could he abandon his blood family? While he had never sworn to Imperium, never promised himself verbally, to him it seemed like he did so in his mind.

That was what made him conflicted, anxious. He awaited anziously that call of his mother's, wishing it would not come even as Imperium dwindled from what it once was. That dwindling made his decision even more teetering.

And then that call came - the one he was expecting, from his mother. First, a call for Cascade, the Et Uxor of Imperium... and then for him and his brothers. Ears flattening to his head, he made his way over to the call, slowly. He was not surprised when he was the last of his siblings to arrive, the others sitting and waiting for what their mother had to say. He greeted Cascade with a simple nod of acknowledgement. He liked what he saw of the woman - she carried herself with a confidence he wanted he himself to carry someday. She was trusted, by Valentine, and held in a position of authority and respect - all of which was something he wanted to earn one day. That day was not this, however, but dedicated to something else entirely. His unease growing, he sat himself next to Gryphon, staring at the ground.

Best get it over with.