The young boy had waited up last night despite his mother's urging to sleep, determined not to bed before his father. It had been the first such night, for while he had noticed his father's increasing absence, never had he mentioned it, thinking that there must be some good reason. But last night would have marked the third night in a row, and trying to discern the emotions on his mother's face had been difficult, difficult because there were feelings there that he simply hadn't realised that moms had.
It had not proved to be a third night in a row; while later than normal (on the nights that he came back at all), the leader had emerged from the trees, and Tomen couldn't help it; his tail had beat hard against the ground as he moved to greet his parent, ushering him inside, believing that everything was okay now that he had come back. That was the problem after all, so surely that would fix it?
Caught up in his pleasure at having both of the wolves he loved most in the same den, Tomen hadn't really clocked the not-quite-as-excited reception that Rook had received from Quil, for the boy had been too distracted in trying to find the most comfortable spot in between the two adults. He had fallen asleep quickly, content, oblivious.
When he opened his eyes, it was still dark out, and there was a nagging feeling somewhere in the base of his skull - like a dream he had just experienced but couldn't recall, or an event the previous day which was deeply important but eluding him. Unable to shake the feeling, he fidgeted, the spot between his parents warm and cosy but now that he was awake and agitated, he just felt smothered. Wriggling carefully out of the way, for he didn't want to wake them unnecessarily, he went to move towards the den, when he changed his mind. Scooting over to his father's side, furthest from his mother so as not to disturb her, he pushed his nose in a large furry ear. "Daaad," he whispered, jabbing his father's cheek this time. "Daaaaaaad."