The prodigal son, returned. Well. To return, you would have had to leave in the first place. And Virgil never left, technically. Taken a stroll around the island, sure! Got distracted and distracted and distracted again, absolutely. But never left. He'd never do that to them. Youthful frame carries him easily, up the familiar path -- oversized paws no longer struggling with the loose gravel and snow. His exuberance is evident -- obvious in the way his pace picks up the closer he gets to home. Mutti's and mutter's scents both cloy the borders he slips passed, ears pricking forward as he slows to a stop finally, close to where he and his brother had once tussled in the snow when they were younger. Home. It felt good, it felt right; Virgil smiles wide, grinning ear to ear, as he laughs breathlessly into the cold Summit air.

@Virgil had returned - but alastor was considering leaving.

well not leaving amaryllis. just the summit. he hasn't left since they came in last month, had barely dragged himself more than a handful of pawsteps from the den and his family's side, plagued by the fear that the moment they left his sight ( or he, theirs ) that they would vanish. just like his mother. so he's been afraid in a way the boy has never really felt before. afraid to leave, to sleep, to close his eyes.

but he thinks today is the day he needs to leave the summit and go find mama.

until the grey almost-yearling lurches up onto the same footpath that the valentine boy is on. he laughs, then, and alas blinks rapidly at the sound, fully unaccustomed to hearing it. and to hearing another boy laugh, at that! with three sisters and a morose father, it's been a time since they've spent a day laughing and joking together. it seems a million years ago that they taunted one another about their fur and changing colors.

his chest clenches and he stumbles to his paws, hurrying a few steps out of the way so he's not impeding virgil's expedition. where'd you come from? he asks, though, because under the scent of ilyria ( one he's getting used to, now ) there's a wild tang that coats the back of his tongue.

so caught up in the childish euphoria of coming home, he doesn’t notice the other boy at first. but when he does, it’s impossible to not see him. dark mauve fur is stark against the snowy landscape of the summit, and there’s something about his rabbit-wide eyes that virgil can’t quite look away from. he’s never quite seen such fear ( or, rather, such hesitance ) that it looks almost alien upon alastor’s face. his smile remains, albeit less toothy and windswept, as the two look at each other — ears notching forward as @Alastor speaks. hey, dude. i was born here! he says — a very princely greeting, if he says so himself. his chest doesn’t quite puff out when he says this, with pride for his mamas, but it’s a close thing. it falters, a little, as he considers his next words; when they come, they’re a little bit more subdued. i’ve been doin’ lots of exploring! seeing all sorts of things! it’s not quite guilt that weighs his words down; he doesn’t quite have the context for it, or even shame. not yet, at least — maybe it would come, later. what’s your name? he asks, head tilting to the side at an almost exaggerated degree, making him look fully like the wolf-child he was meant to be. alastor didn't look like family, but it wouldn't be the first time virgil hadn't recognized a greyflood when he saw one.

@Virgil is jovial and alas finds his lips curving up at one corner, unable to fully smother the inclination to match his mood. cool, he breathes softly, tipping his head to peer over his shoulder and skyward, wondering what it might have been like to have been born here instead of the prairie. they're nothing alike, not really - the swaying green and yellow grasses of the plains didn't evoke the chest-tightening tingle that the summit did when you leaned over the edge to look below. and the summit certainly wasn't soft like the grasslands, a cushioned pillow to nap on.

but alastor can appreciate that this place has its own beauty; that it would have been equally as endearing to be born and raised here.

virgil goes on to say he's been exploring. woah! he exclaims, dropping his head and eyes widening. by yourself? it's a soft, prodding question as his brows knit together, leaning to look a little exaggeratedly over the wolf boy's shoulder. he can't imagine seeing the world in solitude - and even though the prince is older than he is, it still feels frightening to consider.

there's a beautiful storm in your eyes

just a bit shortly behind his more hasty littermate there was lützel, a fellow native son of the summit. unlike his brother’s hurried gait walking up the acquainted path he and all his other siblings grew up trodding up and down on, the alpine child made sure to take his sweet time heading up the mountainside. his movements onwards were both measured and gradual, habits learned after countless times spent getting scolded by his ever fretful parents. that very same nagging was something virgil alike had been on the receiving end of countless times, surely even more than anyone else that happened to be part of their fourfold brood but obviously the constant words of caution had not been imprinted upon his brother’s coconut head.

seeing as neither mutti or mutter were here at the moment to berate him for it, lützel would gladly do so himself; "you’ll fall and break your neck du dummkopf." frustratedly grunting in certainty that his words would fall on deaf ears, lützel’s attention disengaged from his kin’s reckless step and engaged further on to his towering surroundings with the occasional sway of his head. home, that very same feeling of euphoria his brother felt had washed over him as well but unlike virgil, lützel would make sure to admire every second of it. from the scent of crisp alpine air melding with the homely and familiar tang of his parents as borders were crossed, to the reminder of maternal love upon sighting the crooked snow covered branches his dear mutti, talisa, more than likely buried along the treaded path to aid any would be wanderer; lützel relished in even the smallest of things.

the only cure to the homesickness he fell victim to during time spent traversing the lowlands alongside his brother was none other than an immediate return home for surely there was no such place in all of amaryllis as grand, maua’s own shining hill. eventually catching on up to his brother, lützel would make it just in time to reach @Alastor ‘s gaze soon as he craned his neck to look over @Virgil ‘s shoulder for an answer to his question. zeroing in on the smaller frame of the younger cub with an ever intense two toned gaze, instead of greeting he stood silent and inspected the stranger before him, mhm…

She heard their voices down the ledges before she saw them, but the High Queen's face still grew brighter when she rounded the bend to see @Alastor speaking with both @Virgil and @Lützel. " Willkommen zurück, meine Söhne. How were your travels?" A touch of concern cornered her voice as she approached, looking over the two boys for any sign of damage. "Thank you for greeting them, Alastor," she would say to Nero's son as she stopped in their little grouping.

"Reine and Penrose will be glad to see you both. Talisa will be over the moon, as I am," she would tell her boys, one growing into the titan frame of his father while the other favored Morrigan's beloved sister's figure. Neither parent had ever been smothering with their younger children, though. Something they had learned from their eldest, and though it was difficult to let them wander as they did, in many ways it was perhaps safer anyway.

coding & image by flea

Ooc: sorry for the wait, im sick as a dog cool, @Alastor says, and virgil is loathe to argue. Yeah, he says instead, grin never fading. As for the boys question, it'd be an easy thing to lie -- but virgil knows better. Despite his wanderlust, he rarely ever took off alone; the world was meant for two, as they said, and it would be a waste to linger in solitude. Nah, not by myself. As if on cue, @Lützel meanders into view then, his timing perfect. Looks like he finally made it up the path. Took him long enough! Wolfish grin turns to him for a moment, before looking back to alastor as he continues: my brother went, too! He jerks his muzzle towards his shorter sibling, making it obvious that he's the one he meant. lützel had gone further than he had, of course, but alastor doesn't have to know that just yet. Ears notch forward as more steps sound, turn jng to catch sight of @Morrigan as she boins then. Mutter! He brightens at the sight, wasting little time in bounding forward. One month or one year, his affection for his mutter is obvious; he purrs as he attempts to bonk his head to hers, grinning ear to ear. His chest tightens at the mention of penny, and his excitement is electric. With the summit air in his lungs, his heart feels full to burst; why had he ever waited this long tlccome home?