As the sun changed its routine, growing increasingly tardy with its appearance each morning, Gent failed to cooperate, roughly maintaining the same schedule he had for so long. These autumnal days, he woke to the dark, stretching his limbs and rising to his coriaceous paw pads before any of the rest within sleep shift stirred around him. His departure from the den was silent as a shadow, and his route was chosen without thought. Nose wriggling and ears rigidly at attention, he pulled in all the information the atmosphere allowed him so as to catch up on what had been missed while he slept.

As he traveled, the leviathan allowed his gaze to fall momentarily, and his attention was snagged by what was underfoot. Reflecting the moonlight was a thin layer of frost which completely coated the florae around him. This was not unusual as of late, however this time he did not notice just the grass blades beneath the fragile ice crystals. Just inches away from his paw was a frigid cluster of pineapple weed that had rooted itself at the border of his well-worn trail. For a moment, the king simply stared, understanding that there was a great importance to this but unable to immediately grasp it. However, when his mind at last locked onto the significance of his find, a single word was utter: "shit."

Immediately he was off, passing up his normal route to directly head out of the pack's territory and into the Eastern reaches of the timbers. His strides were quick with urgency, devouring the ground beneath them in powerful, reaching strides.

"How could you forget, Gent?" he scolded himself under breath as he maneuvered the forested descent. With all that had happened, the turmoil occurring both within himself and without, he had been neglecting his third role within the pack; healer. Previously, it had been easy to juggle all responsibilities necessitated of him, but with Minka's passing, things had become much more difficult, and it was clear that the least needed of his occupations had fallen to the wayside and out of mind for the king.

His pale gaze wandered to the sky briefly before it returned to scour the ground. Judging from the celestial placements above, he had about an hour or so before he would be due to meet @Cessair at her hill and watch the sun rise. Hopefully, he'd be able to gather enough by then, for he would hate to miss their unspoken appointment. Yet this was something he could ignore no longer, for the chilling weather was already in the process of killing the florae around him. Someones gotta collect these odds and ends, he thought a solemn reminder to himself, as a service to the town!