A Thousand Miles

It had been an eternity since the man had touched the grounds of his homeland, one he had rejected long ago. There had been a couple things that had caused him to break the threshold of the land he grew up in, a land so peaceful and tucked away compared to the Mainlands he had grown accustomed to. There was no bustling military presence like he would think there might be now, especially after the border that had since been torn down. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t greeted with malice at times, a few wolves he had known in his youth having nothing but sour notes to toss his way, mocking the stench of the barracks that lingered on his pelt. He wasn’t welcomed but that was expected he supposed, they were enemies ever since the day he had taken to serving under the true king’s hand, not this false one this realm clung to.

Letting out a sigh, he would bring in a strong breath of air, taking in the freezing winds that chilled his lungs while also the scent of woodlands that provided him with memories of a time long expired. Would his family even welcome him again? He knew his dad always would, knowing the man always took family over anything else in life unless he too had changed since he left the army to a man he wouldn’t recognize. He held out hope that wouldn’t be the case, just wanting to see mostly his parents again after such a long time. Feel their warmth perhaps one last time before they could grow too old, or another war could scorch the wall he had placed between them and make it all the harder to cross.

There was a chance he was going to an empty home, he knew that. Highlanders weren’t great at sticking to one space unless they were one of the aged clans of Perth that had a territory feud.

Meandering around some roots and dens of other families, he would finally come to the nook he once called home, though he didn’t readily go inside. His tail went limp as he gazed upon the cottage, it seemed so much smaller than he remembered, and the life once breathed into it was obviously absent. No siblings playing, parents or grandparents, not even Willow lingered around to greet him. It was quiet, melancholy. Maybe they had left after all, it would explain how still it had become.

Curiosity would get the better of him, entering the small house with his ears and nose twitching for a key to any presence of life. He would receive the opposite, the rancid scent of death and illness hitting his nose and his stomach lurched. “Ma? Father?” he called out, his fur threatening to stand on end from nerves he was trying to keep at bay. He stumbled back a step as his mind flashed to the twin brother’s corpses he had buried, not liking the comparison of perfume. “Are you home? It’s Arran,” he lips twitched as he spoke his own name as if he was a stranger never welcomed here rather than their own child.

Art by Ulfarna | Coding by Plymouth