Rain. Just typical. As if today hadn’t been eventful enough, but he was starting to get hungry, the cold and wet rain really brought a grump on and it was still a long way home yet. All he’d wanted to do was go and visit his new den; getting there had been simple enough, but the journey home was proving to be quite a task in itself. Still, he supposed he should be grateful that nothing too eventful had happened. Yes, he’d run into a River wolf but he was still alive. He’d been turned down by a recruit but meh; her loss. He’d dealt with those, taking them on the chin, but with the weather now sour he just felt like shit. Today was dragging on and on; all he wanted to do was get home to his lands, settle in his den and try to get some sleep before Naira joined him and his nightly beatings began from the life forms growing within her belly.

He tried not to think about it too much. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He’d never wanted to be a father and even up to now he had decided to just ignore the situation. Ignore her changing smell, ignore the slight swelling that had appeared around her belly. If he ignored it, it didn’t exist. It was times like these however, when the rain poured down upon his silky black fur, that his thoughts drifted to topics that would depress him; his offspring being one of them. With a snort, he tried to push the topic out of his mind, but to no avail.
He wasn’t really sure what he felt about it all. All he knew was that he was going to end up like his father- cold, cruel and calculating. That suited him fine… but what wasn’t fine was knowing how his behaviour would effect his children. He’d been on the other end of his father’s beatings, of his temper, his rage and he knew just how small, pathetic and lonely he had felt. Sometimes it got to bad he wished his father would just kill him, put him out of his misery but he had let him live- another punishment it would seem. Could he really inflict that on his own children? He wondered how his father had been so alright with it, so perfectly happy to beat him till he couldn’t even stand. He was certain Naira wouldn’t stand for that, but even that wasn’t such a certainty anymore with her mood swings. Her happy go lucky attitude was missing, along with her waistline and even he was finding it hard to be around her at that moment.
Perhaps that was why he had come here today. To get away from her, from his reality because things were really starting to get real. Sure, throw him into battle and he’d fight to his last breath, throw him into scandal and he’d be the first to stab you in the back, but throw him into fatherhood? No; a reality he simply couldn’t handle.

Suddenly his paws stopped him dead in his tracks. His paws refused to budge another inch; physically he didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to go home, back to the reality which was waiting for him, the reality he had created and had to take responsibility for… did he really have to go back? He could stay here, hide away from the world and live alone. He’d miss his pack sure, but he could make another; not everyone could possibly hate him, just yet at least. Naira would look for him, but not for long. She’d be den-bound soon… he thought then to Valiant; the male had knocked up many females and left them to bare the young alone. With a shudder he saw himself in the silver wolf, a coward, running from the mess he had made. He never had understood why the male had sired so many children, seduced so many females but right here, right now… he could relate. The temptation had been so great, the physical feelings and instincts pulled him to do what just felt right. This is what happened when he allowed his body to rule his mind… if he had listened to his brain, he’d never have been in this situation.

His ghostly grey eyes fell to his paws, watching intensely as his toes started to sink within the mixture of mud and leaves around them. Maybe the ground would open up and swallow him; all of his troubles would melt away to nothing then and he’d never be found. He didn’t want to go that way, but with the cold rain snaking down his back, his glum mood settling in for the evening, it just seemed so appealing.

The rain pelted his coat, it dribbled down his flanks, down his curved cranium and into his eyes; each drop seemed colder then the last as it chilled him to the bone. Shadows of trees, gnarled and coiled littered the terrain around him, everything just looked so much spookier in the rain and the dark of the day, not that he was afraid of course, no Rhysis wasn't scared of anything, or so he liked to tell himself. He wasn't going to tell himself that the tree over there looked like a bear ready to eat him, or that the shrill of a bird which had echoed across the forest earlier hadn't made him jump. Nope, Rhysis was far to brave to be scared.

So when his eyes slithered across the figure of a pale tawny wolf, almost hidden behind the shadows and outlines of the trees, he had to do a double take to make sure his eyes had not been decieving him. Nope, there was certainly someone where. They'd given him a brief glance but hadn't seemed to really acknowledge him; perhaps the female hadn't seen him at all. With a whiff of the air, he finally took note that there was a scent, no... two, on the breeze. The female wasn't alone; whether she and the other scent knew each other or not was another question.

Still, curiousity would always be his downfall and he lifted his head, trying to get attention before he allowed a short bark to escape his lips to try and grab her attention. After the sound had left his mouth, he followed it with his paws and he made his way over to the area where he had seen her.

He hated days like this. The rain pelted down, softening the scents around him and he was forced to pick up his pace. If he lost the girl, he’d be hard put to find her again in this still strange land. Instead of limping along and causing himself more pain (the cold and the rain was causing enough of that as it was), he picked up his leg to lope along on three, perhaps making for a more choppy jaunt but with the ground as slippery as it was, he’d rather trend up than down.

He was worried about the way she was taking being thrown from her home. He imagined she must have other family in the area. Perhaps they could track more kin down if she was so intent on being surrounded by her birth family. He cared for the girl, and it pained him to see her hurt, but she didn’t want his sympathy. He was there for her when she wanted to lean on and when she wanted to be alone he hung back... But he didn’t want to loose her in this rain.

So absorbed in his thoughts and her slowly freshening scent, he almost bowled right over the tawny girl sitting in the mud. The suddenness of his stop caused the one leg he was using to support his rear to slip out to the side and he landed in an ungracious heap at her side. It was then the strangers scent wafted to his nose and he too froze, looking across the small distance that separated them. The bark was short but voiced the other wolfs intentions and the grizzled silver male hauled himself back upright, using his mangled leg to support himself on the slippery ground. His stance was neutral but he was cautious. The man smelled of a pack.

Natural dominance leaked from his pores; he was born a leader and now with his pack he could justify acting like one. With his head held high, but cautiously so, and his tail following suit, he excited the darkest of the shadows like a king. The scent of the second wolf had grown stronger as he had made his way over to the female and it wasn’t long before another wolf, male this time, stepped up quickly to the female’s side. It was an odd sight, to see two loners together. Normally he ran into one, but never two. Perhaps they were a mated pair? He could tell, not just yet, but the male, though it was clear he had an injury, stepped up to the female’s side as protection. The action made him smirk, for he would have done the very same for his lady back home.

”I would say good afternoon, but it’s a little too wet for that.” he announced as he stepped confidently closer to the pair, but allowed enough distance from himself and them in light of an ambush. Closer now, their scents were stronger and he took a deep breath. There was something faint upon them, a trace of familiarity that he could not mistake. The River wolves. He refrained from allowing his hackles to rise, kept his posture royal rather then defensive for that moment. The scent was there, but it was old…fading. Perhaps they had simply wandered close to the edge. For now, he would make no judgement on them.

”My name is Rhysis.” he continued on in his southern drawl whilst his features remained neutral as ever, impeccably practised into perfection was his casual expression. ”I’m the leader of one of the local packs.” he said, ensuring to keep which one it was hidden of course, but there was no point denying who he was. It only took the knowledge of his scent to know exactly who he was and what he had done around here and he couldn’t hide from that. He couldn’t hide his scent just as a zebra couldn’t change its stripes. A pity really, but none the less a fact of life.
He glanced then to the males injured leg once more. If Naira had been here, or Ava or even Chantille they would have offered him relief, but they weren’t, and Rhysis was a git so would allow him to suffer. He only looked after his own after all. So with a lift of his gaze, he simply looked at the two wet wolves and waited.

It did not go unnoticed by the plain and grizzled grey man that the dark wolf before them who stood so proudly, as he too had once stood... (before the blasted bear...) did not mention which pack he led. Not one to go forcing his nose into other peoples lives willingly, nor one to attempt to talk the leg off a dead deer, he remained content to simply observe for a moment.

He had once been a warrior, but now was more careful in picking his fights. Often dismissed by the majority of strangers, there was very little remarkable about Bardou, except perhaps that he looked far older than he was. Since his betrayal he had focused far more attention on observing. Perhaps he could have been a scout if his leg would allow the speed.

The dark man was much taller than he was. He had no doubt in his own mind he could take the stranger on if he needed to, but there was very little chance he would win. The other wolfs condition was far superior to his own. Not weighed down by a mangled leg and clearly benefiting from the regular meals that came with pack life, it would seem the wiser course for action now was to attempt to maintain some form of conversation. ”I am Bardou.” he introduced himself simply. He would not introduce Borlla as if he had some claim over the girl. She was more than capable of speaking for herself.