It had been a month since Wyatt had officially become just another pack member. Three weeks since he had joined his scouting team.
He felt renewed as he ran through the snow, over the hills, and into the mountains. As he howled out reports and waited for the replies of his fellow scouts.
There was fulfillment in service. One that he hadn’t felt for a long time.
His people had loved him, trusted him. And though they would disagree, he knew that he hadn’t been of service to them for many years.
Wyatt had spent years drowning in his own guilt and questioning all of the decisions that he or others made. Hoping that somehow being in control of everything would absolve him of the one thing he couldn’t have done anything about.
Cain’s death had been the most haunting experience of his life.
He was a friend, his best friend. And all this time, he had kept the secret of how he died and kept the truth from his family.
