It all seemed so simple to Mercy.

He could find a family. His mother was his family, but a real family, like the one Nova and Aponi had, consisted of a mother and a father. The girls had both Naira and Mapplethorpe to look after them, and while Sagacity was not the only one who looked after him, he still felt the need to have a family. The truth of his origin was still unknown to the pup, who believed himself to be a bastard born from some sickly woman whose mate was unknown. He'd been taken in simply out of mercy, some shred of pity that Sagacity had taken upon him and his siblings who had apparently died. It made her no less of a mother to him- but he still felt incomplete. He needed a father, and he had the perfect solution to it.

@Crowe. He was big, strong, impressive- he could take care of Mercy and Sagacity both, and that was all he needed to do, wasn't it? He'd brought up the notion to his mother- one she'd cast aside with a chuckle. He'd been slightly offended by this, and had become troubled. Why didn't she see how easy it could be? And why was it that she spent time with some other man he didn't really know? The name @Faol had been spoken to him, but he had yet to meet this mysterious man. Surely he couldn't compare, in any way, to Crowe. But he had yet to meet him and find out the truth. Still, Mercy was absolutely sure that Crowe would have made the better father out of the two of them.

His troubled thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of movement in the tall grass on the Eastern slope of the mountain. The morning sunlight cast long shadows and was not quite warm enough to dry away the dew from the ground so Mercy's sides and flanks were darkened by the moisture. He froze for a moment, ears tilting forward slightly as he watched the grass shiver and move in a strange pattern- and he knew at once that there was something there, causing it to move so. Something small, certainly small enough for him to hunt.

He crept forward, belly close to the ground and felt his heart rise in his throat- this was it, he was hunting. One forepaw lifted as he readied himself before he took a few quiet steps forward and transitioned smoothly into a run. The little creature in the grass made a high pitched squeak and immediately began to run- but the young wolf was already upon it, and he had it cornered between his large forepaws within seconds. One swipe knocked the mouse off its feet and dizzied it so that when it tried to run again it failed to do so. Mercy picked up the tiny thing in his jaws and flicked his head back, releasing it into the air. It somersaulted, little paws waving frantically before the boy leapt up and caught it between his teeth once again, thus ending the hunt.

He crunched and chewed through his small but satisfying meal and licked his lips, having devoured the whole thing in less than a minute. He looked around to see if anyone had seen him- but saw no one. Tail high in the air he continued on his trek down the mountain's slope, his mood suddenly made brighter by his success.

It was nothing for Mercy to wander about the mountain feeling as free to be. Whether it was bad parenting on Sagacity's part, allowing the boy too much freedom, or simply a naive trust she had that he wouldn't get hurt, the boy felt no worries or need to fear for his own safety as he trundled along. He knew the rules- he could go anywhere on the mountain so long as he was careful, and could go outside the pack borders as long as someone was with him. He gave few thoughts to his own safety- only now and then when the slope got steep would he be more careful about his footing, but he still thought of himself as being too tough, too strong to get hurt. So when a rock went rolling past him, he lifted his head, alert to the sudden movement, and blithely stuck out one paw to try and stop it as it rolled by.

He missed, but before he could leap after it, he took a quick glance over his shoulder to where the rock had come from, as though expecting another to come tumbling after it. He saw nothing at first and turned his head back, lifting one foot as though to take off after the tumbling rock before his mind put together the blob of darkness it had subconsciously seen and formed it into the shape of a large, dark wolf. The fur on his back flew up and he stumbled slightly when he turned, too sharply to keep his balance.

His blueish grey eyes stared for a moment, surprised to see someone there. He hadn't heard, smelled or seen this stranger, a male who smelled of the pack- if only vaguely- who was watching him. He recovered from his stumble and shook a bit of dust out of his coat before he cracked a small smile. "You tryin' to sneak up on me?"

The way the stranger laughed as soon as he saw how he'd surprised the crowchild didn't sound like the kind of laughter that made Mercy want to laugh too. No, this was the kind of laughter that @Aponi used when she was taunting her @Nova or him. Though it wasn't nearly as cruel, it had the same effect- he felt as though he was being made smaller than he already was, which frustrated the boy. He was beginning to feel the impact of being both small and of a less than noble birth. It had not bloomed completely within the boy, but the troubled feelings had just begun to rear their ugly heads.

This feeling was magnified when the stranger spoke, and even more when he approached to stand over him as though to flaunt his size. Had it been Crowe, Mercy might've aspired to stand a bit taller, to match the height of his idol. But as it was, he didn't feel impressed at all by the stranger's size, even though he could've been comparable to Crowe. Instead, he felt jealous and belittled by the man who stood alongside him. Know-it-all, Mercy thought darkly to himself.

When he was lectured about getting into trouble, he picked up one forepaw and flicked a little pebble down the slope with it- much the same way he expected Faol had done only moments ago. He shrugged one shoulder. "My mom lets me come out here." He said, using that as an excuse. If his mom was okay with him being out on his own, then this stranger had absolutely no say in how he was to be raised. "I won't get hurt," He pressed, as though the very idea of getting himself injured was absolutely ridiculous. He wasn't being idiotic, after all- he was just walking around. How could he get hurt?

Still somewhat disgruntled by the admonishment he'd been given, Mercy looked up at the man, studying his features, his thick build, the grey-ticked fur of his coat. He should have impressed Mercy, but the boy child still did not appreciate the fact that he was being condescended. Not that he'd been raised to be proud, but he had aspirations, and this male wasn't letting him have any of hid independence, or giving him any credit.If his mother was fine with him being out alone on the mountain side, then this guy had no right to question him.

A low voice caused the hairs along the back of Mercy's nape to raise, but as soon as he recognized the owner of this voice his features brightened suddenly. He turned and looked up to the white, and even the child realized that the words weren't meant to chastise him, but Faol. Mercy turned away from Faol and gleefully trotted over toward Crowe, flaunting his alliance with the strong, stony male in front of Faol with no regrets. Once he reached Crowe, he lifted his head to nip respectfully at the underside of the rugged jaw above him and placed himself directly by Crowe's side.

"His name's Crowe," Mercy said, emphasizing the male's first name. To Mercy, 'Crowe' sounded more powerful and masculine than 'Shane,' thus why he made the decision to instruct Faol how to correctly address the male Mercy simply assumed was of a higher rank. In Mercy's eyes, he was more powerful, more mysterious, more dangerous- he'd never seen Faol before and therefore judged that as the newer member of the pack, he'd be ranked lower. He was wrong, of course, as he was in most of the judgements he made of the peppered male. He puffed out his chest slightly. "An'I'm Mercy; but my mom sometimes calls me Crowchild." Even his nickname- which had been given to him even before his mother had met the sinister man, gave the child even more reason to like Crowe.