lessons for lost boys

Desolate plopped his rear into the sand as the alpha spoke, averting his gaze from her to look down at his paws. It was an odd question, and the boy didn't have an easy answer to give. Abaven was home to wolves who needed protection, a place of sanctuary where the strong protected the weak and all were welcome and looked after. Although nothing against him had been said, the young Destruction worried that without a mother or father to keep him here, that his attitude would cause him to be ejected from the pack.

"OK I guess." He answered with a small shrug of his shoulders. She directed his focus towards the bay, and Desolate's head lifted to look out upon it as if something had changed about the water the last time he'd seen it. He spent a moment letting his gaze linger, before shrugging once more and turning his head away. "It's good for swimming and fishing." He lied. In truth, he hated the water. It was water that had landlocked him and the rest of Abaven on the island for a season, and if Desolate had anything to say about it he'd never step foot in the bay again.