I want to be little again

There had been no hesitation in the return back to Elysium when Alastor and Manea had received Avacyn's raven in the midst of their retirement vacation. The grim news the corvid brought struck the brute in his heart like an icy dagger. Ava, his little Ava, pregnant and losing her pups all while they had been gone. It was a darkly sobering realization he had while he and Manea sprinted the distance back to Elysium, pausing for nothing and letting nothing stop them. They arrived on the island to find the pack in a dour atmosphere. Saracyn had been bereft, eyes glazed and losing himself in thought so often he ended up just staring into space with a thousand yard stare. Avacyn had refused to see anyone, even turning Manea away when she tried to go comfort their daughter. Alastor sat just outside the den while he waited for Manea. Saracyn had wandered off on his own, also refusing to talk about things. He was grieving and mourning in his own way and Alastor would give him the space he clearly desired.

When Manea stepped out from the den looking defeated and heartbroken, Al knew something was wrong. Manea told him how Avacyn had just shut down, had refused to speak or do anything, and what kind of state she'd been in following the miscarriage. Alastor frowned, forehead furrowing the way only a father worried over his child's safety could. Manea asked him to go check on her, but he was already heading inside. Maybe Manea could talk to Saracyn; maybe she'd have better luck with their blockheaded son. The den was deathly silent when Alastor entered. It was unsettling and eerie, like the life had been sucked out of the entire place. Giant paws padded down the corridor toward the bedroom where he found a wolf-shaped lump underneath the blanket of furs like a stubborn teen refusing to get up in the morning. Were the mood not so dismal he would have found the display humorous. Alastor padded over to the edge of the bed, settling down on his haunches on the furs beside Avacyn. After several long moments of silence, the sire lifted a giant paw and settled it gently on top of the lump, just letting her know he was here with her. More silence followed while Al struggled to think of what would even be an appropriate thing to say in a moment like this. Eventually, he decided on saying the first, truest thing that came to his heart.

"I love you, my little firefly. You don't have to come out if you don't want to. We can just stay like this for a while."

"Alastor Mendacium"