Much like Mojave, Aleksei awoke in the morning with a startle, gasping as he flailed momentarily in the snow. Dreams of being cast away from his home for abandoning them shook him wildly in the night-- the phantom figure of his mother wielded words like a knife that cut him deep, and his ghostly father roared with the intensity of rolling thunder that violently assaulted the tall trees of Kingsfall. Chartreuse eyes were wide with confusion as he glanced around, trying to pinpoint where exactly he was. Home. That seemed to be the answer and he sucked in a deep, shaky breath with the single purpose of steadying himself; he needed to stay grounded.

Aleksei rolled onto his stomach. As a pup, the idea of loyalty was drilled into him by his father, the idea of needing to be the shining example to his siblings never forced down his throat by his parents, but adopted by his own young and impressionable (at the time) mentality -- I must be there for @Karina, must guide @Orren to find himself and stop being so damn lost. How could he do that when he felt as lost as he did now? Hoisting himself up to his feet, Aleksei began a slow trot. Best get into the swing of the day, he had a lot of lost time to make up for. He sifted through a make-shift schedule in his mind: eat, patrol, scent mark, hunt, baby sit.

So his first stop would be a cache, where he would undoubtedly be able to check off the first task of the day. With a few sniffs of the air, he knew exactly where to start. Loping off, he rounded thick tree trunks and pushed through scruffy underbrush to find what he sought. He was mildly surprised, then, to find someone else who shared the same idea. She seemed to be struggling somewhat with the cold, stiff earth beneath her paws, scooping up slithers of muck with each shovel-like drag of her paw. Aleksei gave a bark of greeting as he drew closer, tail wagging behind him. "Hey there. Need some help with that?"

For a moment, he expected scorn -- a "no, I don't take help from the likes of you" thrown in his face --, but, thankfully, the girl welcomed Aleksei's help with open arms. He nodded and beamed a smile at her, tail wagging behind him still as he trotted closer. Getting stuck right into the task of clawing at the cold dirt, the prince found himself glancing up at her in what he hoped was a casual look. She had a nice smile, he noted, though he was quick to scold himself. Still, the company of another wolf his age who wasn't related to him was certainly welcome ... not that he held anything against his blood!

"Ah, no, we don't know each other. At least, I hope not! I just got back from being away for a while, you see," he explained a little sheepishly, with a smile to match -- no need to make the whole story known, right? "But, that's not really important. Uh, Mojave? That's a nice name; it's pretty. Mine's Aleksei. Al, if you want." He offered a more confident smile this time, instead of the somewhat embarrassed smudge of an expression he had given only a few moments earlier.

Four paws certainly worked better than two, and the duo were finally breaking through the frosty, frozen layer of dirt that lay between them and the meal. Would he even be able to get a bite from this cache? Was it big enough for two? He'd let Mojave have it if not -- he wanted to make a good impression, after all, and he wasn't terribly hungry. "How long have you been with my family?," he mused casually, letting slip his princely heritage, "If it's alright to ask, I mean."

Before it snowed, Mojave said. Aleksei nodded slowly as he worked at scooping layers of dirt away from the "feast" hidden beneath. She picked a good time to join a pack -- wolves struggled to be alone in winters, his father had said, and he never had reason to doubt such words. Living alone was hard even when the weather was pleasant he reflected bitterly. He could understand why the snows and the chilly air would make it so much worse.

"Mmh, I think that's all we can do. Right now, at least. Little bits here and there." He fell quiet as he wiggled his toes into the moist dirt that was now growing much easy to sculpt and mush up between his pads as the heat both wolves were generating penetrated the icy ground. Seemed like they were getting closer to the final stretch -- the smell of not quite stale blood and meat left his mouth watering. He gave an unconscious lick of his chops. Maybe he was hungrier than he initially thought?

He stopped, lifting his gaze to Mojave with a tilt of his head. Seconds ticked by as he tried to conjure up some response to the question ... perhaps, really, honesty was the best answer to give. The memories of him and his siblings stung his heart; how they used to gambol about and laugh. Leaving it behind had been ... difficult. "I wasn't born here, no, but my sisters were. Across the mountain is where I was born. We had to leave though. My parents found this place, and it's ... well, strikingly familiar to my home -- er, old home." He was tempted to add on his uncertainty about whether he liked it here or there more, but found himself holding his tongue.  Not quite the best way to keep up a conversation. Instead, he simply continued digging into the loamy turf.

"What about you? Where do you come from, Mojave?"

Aleksei blinked as she explained she came from nowhere in particular. He readied himself to ask what she meant -- you always came from somewhere, right? -- but Mojave was quicker on the draw and gave a little more clarity on what was an odd response. A wandering family, huh? The yearling found himself surprised at the idea of a pack never really settling into a territory. Did they follow herds? Did they simply go where the wind led them? He wasn't too sure of how much of a life that offered, but the excitement of something new must have filled the void left by not having a home. Maybe they were all just too carefree to mind. Honestly, it sounded like the kind of thing Orren would have dreamed about when they were all younger.

"Sounds interesting," his voice shook with quiet laughter, far from mocking, "I'm glad you found my parents, though; it'll, uh, be nice to have a friend, y'know?" Aleksei stole a moment to offer her a sincere wolfish smile before lowering his nose to the ground to give a few good sniffs. They were definitely just about done, if the smell was anything to go by. Mixed with the heady scent of wet earth and decaying leaves, food was more evident than ever.

Glancing to Mojave, he gave an exaggerated pout. "What, you lumping off the rest of the hard work on me?" It was clear from the faux whimper that he was simply teasing -- he was more than happy to unearth the cache. "Alright, I'm going to make your next meal appear like magic. Ready?" With a deft flurry of scraping, their fleshy prize revealed itself to the world and the two wolves who stood hungrily over it. "Ta-dah! Hey, so, you found it first ... and you know the rule, right? Finders keepers?" For a moment he paused, and hastily corrected himself as his stomach quietly rumbled in protest. "Uh, maybe finders first instead?"

He gave a nod in agreement at Mojave's words. Yes, friends certainly did share. The prospect of breakfast -- or, was it lunch? -- caused him to give his dark lips a quick lick, pink tongue darting out and back in. Alek wasn't a particularly greedy wolf, but he did enjoy a good meal. Perhaps too much so, something that had the potential to shine through in time. He inherited his love of food from his paternal grandfather, who had some chunk to his waist, definitely.

"Yeah, it was back breaking work." He peered at the meat that Mojave pulled up and gave a deep sniff. It had that slightly musky, sweet scent of a deer and, the adolescent inspected it closer, he deciphered what it was; ribcage. "You know, we could probably play with this." Aleksei hadn't quite meant to say that out loud, ears pricking at his own musing. Perhaps he could save face and not seem like a wholly immature lad (which, really, he was; he absolutely was). "I mean, you take one end and I take the other and we pull. Hard as we can!" He tilted his head as he gave his tail a wag -- it was all in the name of good fun, right?

And so, he lowered his head, charcoal nose twitching and sniffing before he took his end in his mouth. His teeth sunk into the fleshy bites and grasped at the bones. Chartreuse eyes darted up to Mojave as his wagging tail continued it's swaying from side-to-side. 'What do you say,' his body language seemed to ask. 'Up for it?'