---

The hare had kept his distance from Avon since the separation of Fable and Archon, tensions had been high and as a recently proclaimed Shakti-vaes his support had shifted its focus onto Archon. Especially with Lylith; his attacker, being welcome into Avon's grounds, the fae had not returned since her arrival. And now, with his brother cast out of the pack Sycamore had followed, keeping to the edges and minding his own, abandoning his garden in the process to wither in its neglect and his burrow.

There was a certain level of exposure that came with being on his own again, and a settling deep in his chest that in the end ─ he would always wind up solitary. As nature intended. He was not a wolf, despite how he tried to fit in among them. Large ears twitched, sighing as he huddled against a tree near the sound of the flowing river keeping his awareness higher than it had needed to be in so long.

❝ speech ❞
notes

Archon had become a student. Since breaking free of an undemonstrative correlation, Archon had spent the greater half of his time studying the world around him. Most importantly, the packs. He would do more than sit at the border and wait for a glimpse of his own children, knowing his time was better spent fixated upon his and their future.

He would need a home for them, if any of them aside from Eidola - assuming if she still wanted to - wanted to leave. Things could change from the time he had spoken to Eidola, and he was betting on it to change, but he still needed a home for them, if they hadn’t; and a home for him, in the long run.

So he had become a student. Watching, learning - following the wolves around him, seeing where they went. Sometimes he got chased off, sometimes he didn’t.

He had been chased off after being caught following someone who didn’t wanna be followed when he caught the scent; a scent he didn’t think he’d ever smell again. His brother - Sycamore. How could that be? Unless he was dead?

A protective growl in his throat, Archon had hoped not - coming upon the scene, there was no blood. No smell of it, either. He saw him huddied near the base of a tree, near a river.

Sycamore? Brother? He stayed back a respectful distance if the hare didn't want his company, ready to turn away if that was the case.

---

The hare alerted to his brothers presence long before he actually closed the distance enough to call out to him. Those impressive satellite dish ears caught the sound of shifting grass and his nose twitched breathing in, ensuring it was someone familiar. And not her.

He wasn't sure how long it had been now since he actually saw Archon, the pair of bachelors had been largely keeping to themselves since Avon had broken apart at the seams. Every individual who had brought it together, except for Fable now - had split apart. "Sycamore? Brother?" Sycamore shifted, straightening as he lifted himself to his full height, scarlet eyes - which were heavier than they'd been in so long found his brothers face taking him in for a moment. Considering the circumstances he didn't look too worse for wear.

❝ Archon, ❞ he greeted. ❝ I don't think I've been alone like this since I first came to Mythris ❞ he offered, a hint of cynical amusement laced his tone. ❝ I should have assumed wolves would always choose their own, ❞ he added bitterly. even one that had attacked him. ❝ How are you faring? ...your daughters? ❞ his nieces.

❝ speech ❞
notes

Alone. Being alone for someone so small was a dangerous thing, in his big, open world - and here recently, that was exactly the condition he found two of his daughters in. Neglected - he still couldn’t believe his ears.

His eyes lingered over the figure of his brother; he knew in his heart that he could trust this hare more than any wolf he had ever come across. Y-yeah, me either, brother. I forgot for a moment how earth shattering it was. And to think, his daughters - he shivered.

He closed his eyes and nodded. It is not a wrong assumption. Most of the time, it is the correct one. Not with me, though. That much was clear. He smiled at his brother. I was raised by a girl and a cougar. And then later, when she found a mate, his best friend turned out to be a tiger, and later, Duskguard would be born.

... and my first love was a deer, with golden antlers. So maybe I’m the one that doesn’t fit in the equation. Maybe I should never have fallen in love with a wolf at all, he tilted his head with a sad smile and shook his head.

Two of the five are in my possession. I found them alone, just as I have you, with claims of being forsaken. He slowly brought his eyes to meet Sycamore’s.