This is how you remind me

Mortis struggled as she spoke. She could see it in his dark face as he struggled to both comprehend and remember. Asla couldn't say that she wasn't worried. This was a very strange and worrisome ordeal. And he didn't want to tell their parents about it? She supposed that she understood, but still. It was a lot for one wolf, especially one as young as they were, to deal with.

Aslatiel listened as he spoke of the words sounding real but not feeling real. Perhaps things would come back in time. For now though, she would work with him as much as he needed. She imagined that he must feel very alone, and that was something that she didn't want for him. None of her brothers would ever be alone. Not until she was dead.

He'd said that his head had hurt when he woke. As Mort sat down, Asla came close. Rising on her hind legs, she placed one paw on his chest while the other gently moved along his skull, testing for injuries. If he winced in pain, she figured that he struck his head, perhaps on the bottom of the sea. Mort was vulnerable. He was uncertain about everything, especially himself. He worried about being weak. As the cream and grey girl inspected her brother for injuries she kissed him between the eyes and smiled. "You aren't weak, Mort. You never were." He'd had doubts about being weak before, but he wasn't. Not in her eyes. He had been different, but never weak.