I lowered my snout to the crisp water, eyes tracing the vibrant colors in its rippling reflection. After a long and painful year, we were back to autumn. The forest floor around me glowed in the fading, reddened sun, unshielded by the barren canopy above. An orange leaf floated on the surface, its four-pointed shape reminiscent of a paw. Even dead, it was full of color. Not gray and weathered from a life of tireless wandering.

Leaves grew into existence exactly where they belonged, but all it took was a tug of the wind––a sway of a branch––for a leaf to fall. By the end of the fall, each and every leaf would end up on the ground, doomed to a stagnant life and crushed into oblivion beneath a thousand feet.

They'd never return to the place where they came from, hanging among the branches. Never again be a shining green in the sunlight. They would no longer feel the calm of rustling in the breeze with its fellow leaves.

But a few lucky ones ended up in the water, set on a rushing course downriver. Perhaps they could be content with a life of displacement, having the chance to feel the rush of the water like no other leaves would. At the mercy of only the current, they were fated to meet others drifting in the river of life. And when it finally found a place to rest, washed up on a foreign streambed, just then, it could find peace.

A few of those very leaves lay beneath my paws, littering the small, pebble-lined bank. They'd finally found their home. I envied them. They only had one autumn in their life, one big change that set their lives in motion, never to be the same. Too bad I wasn't done drifting, that the leaves in my life would never stop falling.

Before I backed away from the water, I closed my teeth gently around the petiole of a large, yellowish leaf that retained patches of its lively green. It fanned out widely, nearly as large as my face, with jagged points along the edges. A sycamore leaf, I believed, remembering bits and pieces of Dad's explanations from our regular treks through the woods. Mom's favorite part was always collecting the prettiest autumn leaves.

I hoped the gift might raise her spirits now––needed it to, for all our sakes. With Avens sick, there wasn't much joy between any of us.

Paws turned toward the woods, my ears picked up on a slight rustle to the left. I rolled my eyes, pretending I hadn't heard at all, and trotted past the line of trees. More loud and clumsy crunching followed behind me, until finally, I ducked backward. A flash of tan tumbled to the ground in front of me.

Shore landed on her paws, a premeditated growl of triumph already in her throat. It was cut short as her narrowed eyes shot to me, standing on the sidelines instead of pinned beneath her.

Setting the leaf on the ground, I grinned. "A stealth-attack is supposed to have this thing called stealth."

The lanky she-wolf only stuck out her tongue. "Like you can do any better?" she goaded, head held high and tail flicking back and forth with a challenge.

My own tail swayed at the thought, before quickly falling flat. Mom was waiting for us at home, and we needed to get going before it got dark. She'd worry if we weren't home. "I'm sure the pack's wondering where we got off to." I shook my muzzle, smile fading. "I don't have time to show you up." Forcing out a laugh at my own joke, I picked up the sycamore leaf. I couldn't find the energy in myself to actually be amused.

Shore scrunched her nose and huffed a groan. "Don't be such a buzzkill, Drizz!" She lowered her shoulders, taunting me with another wag in her hips. "What happened to my fun brother?"

I hummed nonchalantly. "He's on vacation," I said, forcing the words through clamped jaws. "Seriously, Dad has enough stress without having to come searching for us. We didn't even finish the whole patrol route. Let's just go."

Passing her and ignoring the whine in her muzzle, I headed further down the trail toward home, only for Shore to circle around in a sprint and come to a halt before my paws. Her muzzle closed around the other jagged side of the leaf, and she gave it a faint tug.

Glaring in her green eyes, I growled. "Let go, Shore."

The dark brown that rimmed her pupils, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale irises, glinted with her typical, stubborn mischief. "You let go, Drizzle."

I let the growl rumble louder from my chest. "I'm not playing." Heat prickled my face, and annoyance raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

She was often incapable of understanding when I was serious. Her pushing me, teasing me, it never helped. Not while Mom was sick. Avens needed adult wolves to take care of her, to be able to take care of themselves. There was no time to be a pup.

Shore didn't budge, even at the snarl in my tone. Common sense would dictate that I just let go, preserve the leaf and walk away. Even in her jaws, it'd make it home in one piece. But I was tired of giving in. Of just accepting things the way they were. Maybe I couldn't change the cycle of life, prevent the wolves around me from dying, but I wasn't going to let Shore push me around.

My gaze didn't falter as she tugged again, stretching the delicate fibers of the leaf to their limit. Any more, and it would rip.

"Give it to me. Please." My chin quivered with unspoken frustration, and I let the tension ripple down my muscles instead of forcing its way out in a shout. Arguing never worked with her either.

She cocked her head and a smirk curled her lips. "Make me."

Anger sparked in my belly, teeth instinctively clamping tighter. The tender edge of the leaf crumpled between them, but I didn't care. Tilting my snout slightly downward, I shoved forward with my muzzle. My skull made contact with her nose, the squishy flesh giving way against the top of my head. There was a disconcerting popping sound as Shore stumbled back, her jaws releasing the leaf as a gasp took its place.

A whine rang out, and I shook away the stinging pain from where something sharp and hard had grazed my fur. Only when I looked up, noticing the crimson fluid seeping from her nostrils and her teeth, did I realize that I'd gone too far.

My muzzle opened and dropped the leaf, now tattered and smeared with blood, and I ran to her side. "Shore, I'm sorry––I didn't mean––"

Her snarl cut me off. "What is wrong with you?" She pulled away, turning her back to me and licking the red from her muzzle with a scowl. "You're such a jerk lately."

I bit my tongue, keeping myself from snapping back. I was the jerk? When she couldn't just leave me alone to begin with? "I said I was sorry," I told her flatly. "I didn't mean to hurt you." And that was the only thing I'd apologize for.

"Whatever, Drizzle." With a swift turn of her back, she was trotting onward down the path. Where did she get off thinking that she had nothing to be sorry for herself? To make me feel bad, then walk away? I cast another glance at the crumpled leaf, knowing it was too ruined to be worth bringing along.

"No, Shore." Catching up with a couple bounds, I planted my paws firmly in the ground as I stood in front of her. "I don't know why you can't just say 'okay' and move on. As much as you hate to admit you're wrong, I'm not the one who's been a jerk lately." Each tense word flowed from my muzzle with a needed exhale. "You push and push until I have no choice. You only act like a pup, young and immature, like you have no responsibility to this pack. To your mother, at home dying, while you play around without a care in the world." Before I knew it, I was speaking through clenched teeth, saliva flying from my mouth as my voice grew to a shout. "It's hard to keep it in all the time, Shore, to put on a brave, smiling face like it means nothing to me. Like I can handle it. But I can't."

I stopped to gasp for air, while a warm, wet trickle traveled down my cheeks. Shore sat speechless, tears in her own eyes.

"I do it for you," I said softly, heart aching as my tone changed to one of weakness. "Because you're my sister. Because I want you to think I'm strong, that I can protect you even when Mom's gone."

As she blinked away the tears, Shore's scowl only widened. Her jaws trembled with anger, with a burning pain in her heart. "I don't need you to protect me." Her shoulder collided with my own as she shoved past. "This pup can take care of herself. Go be someone else's brother."

I let the words sink in. I knew she didn't mean them, that we both said things we already regretted, but it didn't keep them from slicing deep into my pelt. Each wound stung like it was crawling with the sharp, gnawing pincers of ants.

It rang in my ears, a sharp and bellowing howl. The sound swelled in volume, filling my head with tones of fear, panic, and danger. My ears swiveled, the sound isolating into a single source ahead, made up of familiar voices from my pack.

Shore heard it too, her eyes locked on the direction it came from. Without a single word passed between us, heart pounding in my chest, we took off toward home.

My eyes fluttered open, and panting breaths filled my muzzle. I could almost feel the forest floor crunching beneath my paws. Gaze jerking to the space around me, darkness filled my sight. The inside of the den. With a sigh, the cold wave of panic began to subside, but burning blood still thrummed in my ears.

I was home.

A soft snoring punctuated the air from a place across the den. My heart slowed at the sight of her sleeping form. It was all okay. I took more deep breaths until I could breathe normally again, blinking a few times to fully wake myself. To go back to sleep, to finish that dream, it was the last thing I wanted.

I licked my lips, mouth dry and body aching as if I'd run a mile in my sleep. I was surprised Cloud hadn't been woken by my restlessness, but I was relieved nonetheless.

Right now, I just had to get out of here. Get some fresh air and clear my mind.