It was snowing lightly when Zephyr arrived at his house in the outskirts of the pack's territory. He reached his doorstep, taking hold of the doorknob when he realised the door was open.
His ears caught chattering sounds coming from inside. He frowned, and pushed the door open. Walking inside, he found the house tidier than usual. The lights were on, and the furnace lit, proving a warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time.
His gaze darted to the table in the living room. There was an already made meal, and some fresh fruits, leaving a fragrance lingering in the air. He was certain it was his mother. She must be back from her trip.
“Zephyr,” the familiar voice came softly. He flinched, glancing towards the hallway and there she was. A tall and beautiful lady with pointy brown eyes, fair
