Compared to his puphood, the fire that had scattered (if not killed) his family was a pale memory was nothing to the blow Kalama had dealt him recently. Leaving just like that, calling him a burden even though she had practically raised him . . . Adam couldn't believe she meant that. Didn't want to believe she could believe that . . .Two mothers had left him.
It was odd. As a seer, space shouldn't have meant anything. But the parting had left a raw wound on his heart, and he had no desire to try and contact the ex-alpha. Kalama wanted a clean cut from their friendship - he was supposed to, as the good wolf he made himself, respect that. And he knew Venda knew he was still sensitive about the whole subject, despite the fact that several days in their travels south he had seemingly returned to his normal, light-hearted self. But the less they mentioned it, the better he thought.
More important was the cold descending upon them, even as they fled to warmer lands.
'C-C-Cooooooooold,' Adam whined not for the first time as they walked, shaking his paws to get some feeling back in them. Their journey was slower than most since Venda could not properly see (nor could Adam really), and often filled with silences. He liked to try and fill them whenever possible, even if it was with pointless words and (in this instance) half-hearted complaints.
Where they were going to go specifically, Adam wasn't sure. But ever since Venda reminded him of the pink wolf he had seen at the Oak, the young male had been considering trying to find her. Even then, this Libenalas had exuded warmth and maternal love - something Adam really, really wanted right now. Plus he was sure she'd be happy to accommodate them at least for a day, right?
He hoped so . . . 'Because I can't feel my paaaaaaws,' he added, finishing the thought aloud. 'And if I can't feel my paaaaaws, I can't walk right, and if I can't walk right, we'll never find a warm deeeeen . . .'
