As Shadow approached the small, cozy din he shared with his aunt, a sound made him stop short. Muffled sobs drifted through the open window, a sound so quiet and sorrowful that it brought Shadow's heart to a halt. He crept closer, ears pricked, and as he leaned in, he heard her voice, strained and low, speaking to herself.
"He never loved me…" she murmured, her words thick with pain. "Always the outcast. Always too ill, too dangerous to be a mother. And now… now, I can't even have him. Not really."
Shadow felt a pang shoot through him, guilt mingling with a deep sadness. All his resentment, all those moments of defiance and rebellion, suddenly felt small and foolish. He took a shaky breath and pushed open the door, stepping inside.
"Auntie…" his voice was barely above a whisper, but she turned, startled, wiping her eyes hastily.
"Oh! Shadow… I didn't hear you coming," she said, forcing a small smile that faltered under the weight of her own heartache. But Shadow didn't hesitate. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a tight hug.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been such a bad dog—never listening, never paying attention. I was… I was selfish. And I never even thought of how much you've done for me."
Her arms wrapped around him, hesitantly at first, then with a fierce love. She ran her paw over his head gently, resting her cheek on his. "It's okay, Shadow," she said, her voice soft, understanding. "I know things have been hard for you. I just… I tried to do my best, even if… well, even if…"
She took a shaky breath, pulling back a little. "Even if I'm not really your mother," she said, her eyes dimming slightly. "I never thought I'd be one for you or anyone else. I just wanted to care for you."
But before she could continue, Shadow shook his head, meeting her gaze with a mixture of warmth and determination. "You don't need to be my real mom," he told her. "You don't have to be anything but you. You were there for me—every night, hunting me dinner, being there when I needed someone to talk to, or just… just being there." He swallowed, blinking back his own tears as he spoke. "You hugged me, you kissed me goodnight… you made me feel loved."
With every word, she began to smile brighter, the sorrow lifting from her face.
"And," he added, managing a soft laugh, "I overheard you… about how it would've been too complicated to have babies, and about your husband. I didn't know you'd gone through all that. I didn't know, and I'm sorry I never realized how much you'd already sacrificed for me. I was wrong, and… and you can always have me, Auntie."
She couldn't hold back the tears, but these were tears of joy. With a happy, tearful laugh, she reached her paws out, pulling him back into her arms. "Oh, Shadow… you've made this old heart happier than you'll ever know." She hugged him tightly, her warmth enveloping him as he buried his head in her shoulder, feeling the peace of forgiveness and love.
When he pulled back, he looked at her with a soft smile. "Mom," he said gently, the word falling from his mouth like a promise. And hearing it, she broke into fresh tears of joy, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude as she held him close, the two of them finally finding the comfort they'd both longed for.
Unbeknownst to them, Lone stood outside, leaning against the outside of their home with a soft smile as she watched the heartwarming scene unfold. Her gaze softened, a quiet warmth filling her as she looked at the bond Shadow and his aunt shared. She felt her own heart stir, her thoughts lingering on Shadow, the young fox who'd finally found the family he'd always needed. And as she watched them, a small smile played on her lips, her heart gradually opening to something she hadn't felt in a long time.