Rain had started to fall haphazardly from the dark sky overhead but he did not mind. He had left or the east just before the moon took its position, seeking either food or wolves to join the Aurora pack; he was not sure yet. The shadow was not a very social wolf—in fact, he detested encountering strangers and attempting to hold conversations with them. He preferred to be on his own or in the company of his small family. Even with his new position at the helm of the mountain pack, Greer found it difficult to break old habits. His scarlet mate had done well in collecting wolves to join their group of misfits, but now it was his turn. Even if it went against his character.

The thought caused a grimace to appear on his dark features but he dismissed it with a sharp flick of his tail. His mercury gaze narrowed softly as he studied the peculiar scenery around him, his hackles raised.

Oddly enough, the sickly thin pines left him feeling vulnerable as opposed to the rocky plateau he called home.

Engaging in patrols without his wife at his side made the Archer-Lyall uncomfortable, but it had to be done. She was the talker, not him. He was the moral support… and to look intimidating. Words did not come as easy to him as they did to Kyna. That, and he just did not enjoy speaking. Especially to strangers.

What a peculiar predicament he had gotten himself in. The selective mute, son of the regal Elettra, who had shied away from the spotlight for three years had been thrust into the very thing he had desperately avoided. Attention; committment. It was all new to him. The strawberry blond he did not mind, for the thought of her sidling up next to another wolf made his guts churn and his head throb, but leadership? He was not cut out for it.

Greer did not know if that would ever change.

The scent of another collided with his damp nose, causing his brows to furrow further. He did not seek out the stranger, but he did not change his course either. She smelt of pack—the same scent hat accompanied the pale male he had encountered on the mountain. Neighbours.

A grimace cut into his dark lips as the rain drops began to increase in both size and quantity. At least he had some of the skeleton pines to protect him, whereas the heights offered little protection in undesirable weather. The shadow, however, had gotten used to braving the elements. Life on the tundra had prepared him for his move to the mountains, for there was no foliage to duck beneath when the skies decided to open up. Not unless he headed south, to the forest that separated the expanse from the rest of Lore. It had taken some time to adjust to the drastic change in surroundings, but he managed (with a frown pressed to his maw).

Water began to drip down his legs as he moved through the trees, his brows furrowed in annoyance as he struggled to catch of something other than wolf. It appeared, however, that the Archer-Lyall was having no such luck, for the only thing he was able to track was the older female from the neighbouring pack.

His grimace deepened.

The silver female was within view but, as per usual, the shadow kept his tongue locked tight behind his pearly fangs. Greer was not one to speak first—or at all, if he had his way—especially when encountering a pack wolf. Loners were a different story, as they could be useful to the small Aurora pack. But pack wolves had already chosen where they decided to den—he could not persuade them with his broken speech. A single brow rose in curiosity as his silver eyes fell onto her pale, soggy frame. He offered no words; instead, he gave a sharp wag of his tail, to let her know that he was aware of her presence. If she wanted to converse Greer would unwillingly comply, but for now the silence was far more appealing. 

He hoped that after his brief, non-verbal greeting that he could continue on his way and attempt to escape the rain. Conversation was not on the agenda today. No—he was seeking a warm meal for his wife. It seemed, however, that the universe had other plans. The pale female spoke, her voice hushed as she attempted to speak over the heavy rainfall. His movement ceased as he turned to look at her, a sharp line forming between his brows. He remained silent, his ears pinned forward to catch a second string of words fall off her tongue and fill the air between them. Shelter. The shadow was not sure if he needed shelter himself, but he was not opposed to helping her. They were already aware of each other’s presence—if she was part of the neighbouring pack he did not want to leave a sour taste in her mouth by walking away without a word.

Unfortunately his duties as leader got in the way of his desire to be a recluse.

Nodding he motioned for the pale female to follow him with a flick of his maw. He was sure he had passed some abandoned dens in the fen before, he just needed to remember where. His lips twitched at the thought but they did not fall. Instead, he waited for the female to make her way toward him before he set off once more. He diverted from his original path, blinking water out of his eyes as he glanced over at the older wolf, curiosity bubbling inside his chest. It did not spill from his mouth, for the shadow was exceptionally good at keeping his thoughts to himself.

Greer could tell the pale stranger was wary. Why wouldn’t she be? Any sound wolf would be cautious around someone as sullen and silent as he was; a shadow who thrived on non-verbal communication. However, despite the worry that clouded her eyes and wafted off her pale body in waves, she complied. With hesitation, of course. His shoulders drooped to show that he meant no harm and was simply fulfilling her request. He knew that she would have rather been given directions, but the female already looked lost enough—he did not want to lead her too far from her pack. His haunch quivered as he released excess water from his pelt, his features smooth as he set forth through the trees with the silver wolf trailing at his side.

She spoke once more, an introduction falling from her tongue as she answered his silent question. Quaking Vale. It was a name he had heard before—a name that belonged to their eastern neighbours. His ears twitched in recognition although his tongue did not stir yet. Kuwindwa. The name echoed in his skull as he stored it away for future reference. Typically he did not remember names, for he did not deem them important, but this wolf was a neighbour. It may come in handy in the future. “Greer.” His voice was soft yet raspy from lack of use, the single word tip-toeing off the edge of his tongue. He did not speak as gruff as others anticipated and he imagined his voice would be much smoother, almost silky, if he had used it more. “Aurora Heights,” he added as he motioned to the mountain beyond them, a single brow cocked as he studied the pale Vale wolf.

His brows narrowed before he spoke a third time, a sheepish grin working its way onto his dark lips. “Safe,” he started, referring to himself, for he could tell that the girl was still anxious. “Greer find dry.” And then he would leave to return to his business.