The grass moved differently here, it wasn't the trees of the unfamiliar scents, or the strange abundance of water that seemed hell bent on collecting into every hollow and stream it could find. No, it was the way the grass bent, folding beneath the wind instead of resisting it. The grasses of his home had been far more stubborn. The cub sat alone, forepaws neatly tucked together as his golden eyes tracked the rolling landscape.

The move had happened and no one had asked him what he thought of it, Legend was occupied with her new offspring and the wolves of this new group. He hadn't truly known Satriya either, but the desert was familiar enough to his homeland to feel right. Back home there had been heat shimmering off stone, endless horizons and sand that held the memory of the sun long after dusk arrived. He missed the dry air, missed knowing what every plant was for. — missed the certainty of familiar things.

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