Aryn expended every ounce of her energy in sprinting from the battlefield back to the home she'd been trapped within for the past two years. A more cunning wolf might have taken the opportunity to flee elsewhere, to run to the ends of the earth to avoid the change of paws that promised 'something fun' for the wolves forced to remain under Medusa's new leadership, but Aryn had someone to love and to cherish and without Veigar she would do no more running.

"Veigar!" The Valentine woman shouted as she neared his den, alarm clear in her tone. "Veigar!?" Her dik-dik took off in the other direction, galloping on tiny hooves to search elsewhere for the boy she called son in case he was wandering. "Veigar, we need to leave!" Panic infused her every word, her limbs shaking from adrenaline and exhaustion. Where was he? And would he even go with her if she asked? Leaving him was not an option, and while Aryn had been training for the day she would fight for the right to leave and take him with her, that had been versus Recluse not the odd maniac that was Medusa.

Losing his sight had been a painstakingly slow process, taking nearly a year and a half to fully happen. The rate at which it had occurred was as good a thing as it was bad - it allowed him time to learn to adapt to his fading sight, learning to use his other senses to help compensate, but likewise in adjusting he didn't realize just how bad things were getting until it was too late. Before today he'd been able to see the vaguest of shapes, blurry and unrecognizable but still he could see something, but today when he awoke all he saw was darkness.

He was blind. Finally and completely. Just yesterday he swore he'd been able to see the faintest hint of light coming from the sky when he lifted his head upward, but now there was nothing. It was hard not to feel utterly hopeless. He couldn't hide what had happened to him any longer, no matter how hard he tried. Veigar couldn't even drag himself out of his den. Maybe if he fell back asleep he'd wake up from this nightmare. Maybe…

In his sleep he heard his mother's voice, calling to him from some faraway place. In his dreams he still had his sight, and though he followed her he could never quite reach her. He barely remembered anything about her other than her voice, calling to him urgently. "Veigar! Veigar!?'

Suddenly he awoke, Eyrun's voice transforming into Aryn's, practically indistinguishable - though given the fact that Aryn had been more a mother to him than birth mother had a chance to be, maybe it wasn't such a surprise that the lines between the two were growing blurry. "Leave?" He tried to mask the panic in his voice, instead a low bubble of irritation welling up in his throat. He'd gotten used to masking his growing fear and uncertainty with aggression, never directed at Aryn herself. Though he'd always been a bit troubled even as a pup, time had seemingly made him more irritable and prone to lash out, all a facade to protect him from the world that would surely swallow him up as soon as it realized just how broken he was.

The luminescent markings on his coat ebbed in the dim light of his den, a dead giveaway to the fact that he too was beginning to panic, though for entirely different reasons. "Why? What happened?"