Come home

the tension melts from Spider as Bas pulls them close, burying their face into his fur and drinking in his scent. a part of them had been terrified they’d never get to do this again, never get to hug their Dad and feel his comforting warmth again. “it’s not your fault,” they rasp. “we couldn’t risk it.” granted, it’s a lot easier to convince themselves now that they’re back home; at the time, they’d almost broken their resolve on several occasions. “i missed you, though. a whole lot.”

we’ve had to abandon the Mile High Woods…the treehouse got infected and collapsed…. Spider makes a heartbroken noise. the treehouse might’ve been their home for most of their childhood, but Wylan had never lived anywhere else. first his mother, and now this… “was he badly hurt? can i see him?” guilt slices between their ribcage. with the pack so busy, has anyone been able to sit by him? is he lonely? “don’t worry about me,” Spider adds, almost scoffing. “i’m the one who sat around on my ass while the pack suffered.” they scowl, a touch of self-directed bitterness shifting across their face. Spider wouldn’t blame their packmates if they resented them. “how are you? how is…Ignita?”

"Araneae Fatalis"