A voice in a memory

Mortis wasn’t sure what to think. The Magnus that had been residing in the pack wasn’t the same as the one he had grown up with. His father had told him not to stress the man, and Mortis had taken that to mean to leave him be. Now, how father was instructing him to pack light and travel for a time. Magnus remembered who he was, and the strain of it made him a danger to himself.

With supplies slung over the back of Harper the reindeer, he made his way to Magnus’s den. He lingered for a moment on the threshold, uncertain. Feeling a little like a kid again. Back in the days when he had been shorter than the other wolf. He steeled himself, clearing his throat. “Uncle… Magnus? Do you remember me?” he asked softly

"Mortis Fatalis"