open up my eager eyes

Being in a pack was the strangest thing he'd ever experienced in his life. His mother had been kicked out of her pack before he and Tyberius had been born, so he'd lived the life of a rogue from the start. It was odd to have other wolves milling around in the same area, other wolves who cared about each other. Tiresias had always wondered what it felt like to be a pack member and he was not disappointed with what he'd found. From what he'd seen so far, he'd come into the pack at a bad time. The ex-queen had been killed by the king and the moroseness of the situation had spread to every wolf in Seracia. Mourning and sorrow were emotions he was too familiar with, and the burial had reminded him of his own mother's death. He'd slipped away from the pack meeting due to the pain in his chest, tears wetting his muzzle.



Days later, he was resting on the outskirts of the packlands. Lost in his thoughts, he'd tried to stay away from the other wolves. It gave them time to grieve for the royal family's loss, and it gave him the opportunity to remember his own family. No more tears had fallen since that day; he'd just contented himself with faded memories of his dearest mother. Another benefit of being in a pack was a much reduced risk of running across any bears. He wouldn't have been able to take the fright.



A scent attracted his attention. Kamala. He had given her space to grieve the passing of her mother, not wanting to intrude on something he knew nothing about. Now that she was here, though, he was going to attempt to be good company to her. If, of course, she should wish it. "Hello," he greeted her softly, raising himself to sit on his haunches. She was likely here to get away from everyone else, like he was, and he felt bad for interrupting her. He would leave if she wanted him to. There were plenty of other places to rest in Seracia.