He escaped the territory moment in a dizzy haze. Most things didn't seem real these days but that wasn't the problem. The problem was himself - or so he thought. It seemed impossible to clean up his act and make others not hate him or snap at him. Whatever. He still pissed on the borders with the rest of them and remained for Treyah's sake.

Perhaps that's why he slipped off to this place. She always found him here but he doubted that would be the case now. There were children likely latched onto her, keeping her weighed down. It had crossed his mind to eat them but that was kind of fucked up and even beyond his capabilities of evil.

It was a soft word that drew him from his thoughts. Huh indeed. He called out in return. The yearling would have almost been hidden amongst all the charred bark had it not been for their silver hairs.

Don't sweat it. He gave a sharp roll of his shoulders before feeling a dull ache. She wasn't causing trouble and it didn't seem like she was from around these parts. He had half a mind to drag the younger girl back as some kind of offering to the Tainn leader. She liked strays, right?

A brow raised at her question as he gave a soft hum. Longer than I thought I would ever be. Then he realized that didn't answer much. Least a year. Still vague but it wasn't like he was counting days. He'd almost argue that he had been in these woods too long, seen it all and needed a change before he kept tripping over his own dumb actions. Ah but a bit late for that.

Where you headed? She didn't smell like anyone heavy enough to indicate a pack even if the faint scent of the willows and coyote clung to her.

A soft sneer tugged at his features. Don't make me feel old or I might change my mind about your presence. His words a bit sharp but mostly meaningless. He was getting old, wasn't he? Or maybe she was just some little kid too nosy for her own good. He had certainly been there before.

Then she said something that captured his attention fully. I know that more than you might think I do. Just don't get in over your head, alright? He said like a father might to a daughter. Shit...she was old enough to be his daughter - his still missing daughter. That was a wound he hadn't expected to rip right open. He shook it off with a stoic face.

You got a name? He asked with a sharp rise of one brow.

Before he had a chance to even offer his own name or inquire about her Archer lines, unwanted company appeared. A disinterested grunt left him and a growl soon followed.

He had a sour taste in his mouth for the coyotes but they were outnumbered at the moment and he was sure everyone was likely busy doting over the new mother(s) in the Draw. Let them have this one. Come on and I'll patch up your wounds, get you a meal. Then we can go get them, alright? An unspoken promise that the Archer-Lyall yearling would get her proper revenge. He then swiftly motioned with a sharp jerk of his head. If someone wanted to bitch about him tending to a situation rather then starting it...well, he'd rip them a new one - give them something to really complain about.