Lights of Home

Paladin fairly vibrated as he waited, and finally, two forms appeared from differing directions. He vaguely recognized the bright red form of the Archangel, Regulus, but it was the much smaller, much darker form of his sister that he locked onto, front paws prancing as a soft keen of joy and excitement escaped his throat. But he didn’t leap forward. He knew better than to cross the line of stones and scent.

She solved it for him. By the time she looked at him as she greeted the Nomads, his tail was beginning to windmill through the air behind him, and he greeted her leap with delighted whimpers, shoving his nose into her fur and breathing her in. And there was their mother’s scent. But there was something wrong. His joy evaporated as concern replaced it. But he’d barely had a chance to part his jaws and demand what was wrong with their mother before he heard her snarl and found himself shoved back, haunches smacking into the ground with a heavy thump.

He swayed aside out of reflex, letting any fresh attacks slide past him as he stared at his litter-mate as she threw a litany of anger at him. Exodus broke in, pulling Paladin’s eyes aside for just a brief flick before they returned to his sister. However, Regulus’ reprimand, for it was as such, even with that mild tone, pulled his attention more fully away as he listened to the giant Crimson male.

He gave a weak smile at Regulus’ acceptance, but the joy had already been lost when he’d smelled that wrongness in his mother’s scent on Justice’s fur. Depression? Gods, was it his fault? What had happened?

Kavamaya stepped forward, answering Regulus’s words to herself and the nomads, heavily brogued voice holding a deep similarity to that of her sister. “It is our great pleasure, especially to help the children of my sister, and the many-greats grandson of one of our founders’ daughters. We will stay but a few days, and help where we can. However I would like to request a favor of you, when you have the time.”

Paladin’s eyes had shifted back to his sister. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t really know what to say next, and his posture and eyes held a clear reluctance to get within biting range of his own sister as he rose to his paws, turning to Exodus and asking once again, for what might have been the hundredth time since they’d left the Basin, his brother’s paws encased in the hide covers with a Calendula paste and Aloe gel, “How are your paws?”