teach me how to celebrate

Desolate padded dejectedly after Theory and the others attending the festival. He'd not wanted to go, but his mom seemed to be nowhere to be found and the thought of staying at Abaven's lands when everyone else was gone to Winterfell territory was scary in its own right. Surely his siblings would be coming too and Desolate wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not. While he loved his littermates he couldn't help but get angry at them over the smallest things, and a part of him worried that one day he'd snap and hurt one of them and get in trouble by the elders of the pack. Though, maybe that would be the only way his mom would pay him any attention.

He filed the thought away for later and scurried up alongside Theory's large paws. She'd stopped to dig a hole, and the pup looked up at her in confusion, then around the near-empty woods. "This doesn't look like a festival. Why are you playing in the dirt?" He asked pointedly. Theory was alpha, so that meant she knew what she was doing, right?