B O U R N E
Active | Charming | Creative | Dutiful | Puppyish
Voice: David Michael Bennett of Steampowered Giraffe
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"Son... Are you certain you have to leave us?"
Bourne looked over his shoulder to his mother, who had stopped in her tracks. With soft, grey ears pressed back against her head, she was the very picture of maternal concern. The rest of the pack had always said he looked like his mother. The two of them had the same warm tones to their coats and paleness to their underbellies. Both of their noses the colour of well-loved leather, and both howled with in the same melodic way. Having been the only pup in his mother's only litter, and as such, the two had bonded very, very closely together. Even when he was walking, Bourne hardly left the matriarch's side. If it weren't for his size and his mother's age, they could have been twins. Really, all that set Bourne apart from the matriarch was that he inherited his father's blue eyes and charming grin.
"I'm sure, Ma." He turned to her; autumn leaves crunching underfoot. Scooting his head under her chin in a puppyish way, he licked at the side of her face. It did little to cheer her up.
"But... The pack won't be the same without you." Bourn's mother pulled back, her amber eyes wide with concern. "It's not as if you're being chased off, and we have plenty of room! Just stay. Another season. Maybe two."
"Oh, Ma, it's not that... It's just..." Sighing, Bourn turned away. "I just have to."
The two of them were nearly at the edge of the forest. The yearling wolf had lived here for all of his short life, and he was beginning to feel the call to adventure. Not any particular adventure, if he was honest. Just something... something new! A place where he could run with the wind in his fur, instead of the scent of baby breath in his face. He wasn't cut out to be a babysitter or even a hunter... And the pack leaders had little intent of scouting out farther than they already had.
His mother included.
It was where their path's diverged. His mother, the matriarch and ever steady leader of the pack, was satisfied with the life she and her mate had set out. They had enough food, enough water, and they maintained a fairly consistent size. All of the pack's needs were fulfilled in her eyes, but not in Bourne's. Not when the valleys that separated forests and mountains were within eyesight. Not when the wind would catch a foreign wolf's howl on the wind. Not when there was so much to know, to experience, to be!
"Bourne, I don't know that you fully understand what you're doing." She moved between him and the bright light filtering in from the thinning trees, snapping the young wolf from his thoughts. "The wolves and packs out there aren't all like us. Not all of them are kind; not all of them are understanding."
"Not all of them would understand their son's need to leave?" With his tongue lolling out of his mouth, he tried to beam at his worried mother, but to no avail.
"This is serious. Listen, you can turn back. No one will think less of you."
"No, I don't think anyone would." Once more, he moved in and licked his mother's muzzle, speaking softly to the ageing wolf.
"But that doesn't change that you're leaving." Her voice came as barely a whisper, choking on the lump that had formed in her throat. "This is it."
"This is it." He spoke softly, looking deep into his mother's eyes one last time.
"Come back to us someday. I want to see you again before I walk in the next world."
"Ma... Don't--"
"That's enough." Sitting down, she closed her eyes, head tilted skyward. "You said so yourself. This is it. Go, son. Go."
Bourne's feet moved before he even realized, foliage and dense undergrowth cracking and crumbling under his deft paws.
Scout 
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