The rogue paused, head cocked to the west. Gold eyes tracing along the blue sky where he noted the sun was drifting closer to the mountain. It would still be a while longer till it slipped away into night, and he had plenty of time to thoroughly patrol. It wasn't like the dark bothered him any way .It just made his lonely walk more cold. What else was new?

With a huff he pushed himself into a slow lope, quick breathes tugging from his open mouth. He made his way to the edge of the territory ready to make another round to mark their borders. He had noticed while the Archers may still roam, they were still grieving the loss of their sister. If he could at least reinforce the boundaries of the Ridge, they would have a little less to worry over.

He raised up, raking his blunt claws along old marks on a great willow. Satisfied the mark was fresh, he took a step back to admire his work. Then heard the sound of another. He stepped away, craning his neck to see the white figure. He didn't have to think twice to know it was Sven. "Care to join me?" He would gladly take his help. There was something he wanted, he needed to tell him.

Happy to have company, his tail gave an off beat. While @Sven would leave his own mark on the same tree, he quickened his step to a buck thorn bush to do the same. Feeling it was time to continue, he kept step with the Archer.

"Okay, I guess," he began, catching his gaze from the corner of his eye. He wondered if he found it hard to remain in the territory with the gloom as well. "Figured best to give another round before night. I find it a little hard to sit." He did not mention because of the mourning, even if  it was part of it.

"What about you?" He had taken on a role neither of his parents had, and he had noticed how much he frequented the borders, and kept caches full. Picking up the pace, the next willow tree came in sight, but he did not rush to mark this. Instead he stopped, letting Sven at it. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell him. He had long debated if he should. But, the Lyall felt he would soon be two, and might as well know Attica may not be his only sibling. He could decide what he would do with the information.

It seemed they had another tree down, and trotting to the next he finally spoke. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Same." It was a single word answer, but it said enough. He'd venture to guess Sven had not been particularly close to Adele either, and they both felt out of sorts with the other's grief. As they walked he noticed how close they were in size now. He wondered how far the line of comparison stretched, and where it halted.

At the next tree he mimicked the Archer's motion, by rubbing along the rough edge of the tree, and then took a seat. He had not planned to go much farther, and since he had his attention now was a good a time as any. He let out a silent breath. "It's about your father." The word felt odd on his tongue, as he didn't feel Skoll had been much of one. He guessed he would be classified as the same even though he believed the circumstances different.

So he began his tale. "Before the pack split there was this terrible storm, and I got caught out in a cavern with a wolf named Ella." He began, hoping in turn that he would sit. Gold eyes fell to him, watching closely. "She's mostly silver, with bright blue eyes from Oak Tree Bend she said. When she realized I was from the Ridge she asked me about a Samual Lyall. Apparently, he was the father of her coming brood and she had a message for him." The little details could prove important, he continued. "No such wolf I told her, and so she gave description. There was no one but Skoll that fit." He did not add more letting him put it together.

For holding the blood of an Archer, Sven seemed to take it rather well. Least outwardly, there was nothing there Renier could see. He wondered if he'd heard such rumor before. He didn't ask, he held his tongue, earnestly watching. It was obvious he had to feel something as he stirred, drifting to the next tree.

The Lyall silently followed, watching as he began hacking away at the bark. Wishing he knew what the youth was thinking. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he murmured. "I thought he'd be the one to tell ya." He had to refrain from cursing the wolf, and instead let out a rough huff, briefly resting his gaze upward on the branches of the tree. He was aggravated in what had been left behind for Sven. Didn't understand the Archer's absence, but he felt he would never really know what made him or his sister tick.

 Renier imagined the lady still lived there, and must be all right. If they'd kicked her out, he had a feeling he would have seen her again.

"You could take a trip and find out. Don't you have a friend that way?" He dare ventured to say, adding, "It seemed to me if she was going to be thrown out they would have already done so, and she'd be over here some where." He was trying to be helpful, as in Sven's place he had no idea what he would want to do.

His ears did not miss the scornful sound. He wasn't surprised at the displeasure. Skoll had left not only Sven, but Attica, and whatever other children he'd made. Wasn't exactly someone to miss.

The white Archer seemed to want to make it clear on the issue. Renier was only reminded of other Archers who seemed the same. Never finding fault in their actions.  "You're right about that," was all he could say in turn.  He knew the father and son had bond, and it was the only reason he had felt Skoll wouldn't keep it from him. What closeness there had been harshly burned away.

An ear swiveled the mention of Morganna, carrying the same tale. A different name, and possibly woman. Great. Were there more? He couldn't begin to imagine how many lovers the black and silver Archer could have found last spring. He guessed they would soon find out.

Whatever emotion the young man had seemed to fall back. A simple agreement to find out for certain. If he had trouble they'd cross that bridge then. Those silver eyes fell upon him, a single word said. He barely nodded his head in turn, though felt his gratitude was unnecessary. He hadn't done any great thing. He knew whatever trust Sven had had for him had eroded when he had pursued Morganna. He was still trying to gain it back, prove himself.

"You know, whatever happens, you only need to ask for my help." He would do whatever he could for him, and wanted him to know it. Believe it. Who could blame him if he did not? Let down too many times.