Mumma please

After speaking with Cerberus she followed her son's trail back inland. Chewing on the inside of her cheek. She didn't know what to DO with him. No, she had an idea, but she liked it a lot less than the idea of just telling him off. but that had gone about as well as it could up till now. This had to be the last straw. What if he had stumbled into the Syndicate? What if he got seriously hurt and he never made it back home? Her heart couldn't take it!

She found him waiting for her. Conveniently looking thoroughly chastised already. She shook her head and took another steadying breath. Usually, she had let Bas handle his wanderings and discipline, but obviously, Bas was a little too proud of his son's efforts to get into trouble. This time it could have been serious and might have even started a war.

"Citadel..." She started and shook her head with a sigh. Ignoring her son's visual attempts to soften her, "This is the last time. You didn't just wander out of our borders, you didn't just go on an unsupervised hunting trip, you trespassed. You could have been maimed or claimed, or killed for trespassing over another pack's borders. Do you understand that?" She asked, her voice low and severe. The worry and concern were palpable on her face. Not letting him get a word in edgewise she continued. "Never mind how worried I get every time you disappear, but you trespassed into another pack. If you had picked another pack- by the Sun!" Her volume was starting to increase as her words nearly made her panic so she paused, inhaling for a moment before continuing in a softer more serious tone: "Citadel, you could have started a fucking War. We want to avoid that as much as possible. No one wants a war, it's bloody and dangerous for everyone, even for non-fighters." Her gaze was hard, her face flat. She didn't like what she was about to do but something had to change, something had to make the boy understand.

"You will not be that lucky again because you will not be wandering out of these borders from now until the first day of Spring. You will be scrubbing the baths, hauling loads from the smokehouse to the storerooms, learning how to organize the storerooms, refreshing pelts, cleaning the tunnels, refreshing the torches, polishing weapons, and otherwise working your butt off for a season as a Songbird Slave." She sat and held his gaze. She was a hundred percent dead serious.