He was ready to go back to the den, ready to be alone and sit in his continual sadness and think. Yet his orange gaze again wandered to the small painted fem before wretching his gaze away and ready to leave. He begins to walk away leaving Natu to follow him towards their secluded den until he thought he heard his name from the group, the female’s voice carrying over the terrain and reaching his silver tipped ears being the source of it. He stopped suddenly but he wasn’t the only one frozen into place by the woman’s voice and words. The world seemed to stop for a moment and his mind wasn’t clicking to what it meant. For so long he had resigned himself to the fact his brother was dead and his family was gone. So his mind looped around thinking that he had misheard. He had convinced himself for so long that his old life was gone.

What brought him out of his paused world was only the white female’s voice saying softly the thing his mind just wasn’t comprehending. His real mother? He slowly turned to face the female again, lean form twisting about to face the group again. His gaze traveled to Natu, the female who raised him, tried to atone for her mistakes, the woman who also ripped his life apart but also attempted to rebuild it. Did he really have it so bad? He had wanted to find his family his entire time he had been here but now faced with it he felt almost scared, terrified of the changes that would happen should he go back now. He was nervous too, and his gaze found that of the familiar white wolfess and could tell she too was afraid, possibly because she wondered what punishment would come to pass. But, his mother shouldn’t know who did it… Heim, the only witness he assumed was dead, killed by Natu’s fangs, unless Sven said something Natu potentially could be hailed as his savior spared from any potential punishments…. But did she deserve not to be?

He took a tentative step towards Pan and the female that he could only suppose truly was his mother. What did he say? He didn’t really even recognize her, would she recognize him? He had grown so much and changed, his entire demeanor serious and ridged over his time in the mountains. Sven couldn’t bring himself to speak, part of him just was thinking it was a figment of both of their brains so he would go closer get a better look at this female, and likely figure he was indeed still dreaming.

He drew closer stopping a little distance away from Pan and Everchime, gaze lingering on the bright pumpkin orange eyes that were so like his own, a scent wafting towards him, one undeniably familiar from his childhood. One that made him think of his old home. Perhaps Natu would trail behind him. He was still shorter than the group of wolves by a landslide, but he still nearly stood at shoulder height to the female his silver, black and white form clearly nervous, hesitant. What if he heard wrong? Still he allowed the singular word to leave his muzzle wondering what would happen, who would react the strongest, questioning and clearly uncertain,

”Mom?”