The Lachesis that had arrived in Relic Lore over a year ago was long gone. His experiences had molded him into a well-versed, wiser, and far more confident wolf. After struggling to deal with his unusual past and adapting to his new, feral surroundings XIX had finally become who he was meant to be. Part of this discovery had been successful because of Anastasia; she had been there for him when he had needed him, and had helped him deal with his integration into the ‘feral’ world he had once been so fearful of. She had been his voice when he lacked one, and she selflessly nurtured the troubled yearling. It was also the loss of Anastasia that had pushed him into bettering himself; she was always a thought in the back of his mind whenever he made a decision he was not sure of. While he had allowed himself to grieve her disappearance, he also knew that he couldn’t remain in his depressed state. He was of no use to the pack if he was holed up inside his den; if he couldn’t take care of himself why would Maksim trust him to take care of the pack?

So he had changed – he had cast aside his misery and returned his focus to the pack, along with his role of medic. XIX drowned himself in his work: he was constantly searching for plants and hungry to learn more in order to better serve Cut Rock. While he knew there was still much more to learn, he was confident in the knowledge he already possessed.

As the numbers had decreased in the pack Lachesis had also been positioned as the pack’s Second; a rank that he was taking very seriously. Although he was a ‘hippie’ at heart, the slender medic would do whatever necessary to defend his position in the pack. He would forever be loyal to Maksim, and was eager to help his leader in any way possible. Nineteen would also not allow any new wolves to try and take his rank from him – as a dramatically changed wolf, he would fight for it.

His once strained relationship with Bastet had also taken a turn for the better. She, like Capella, was incredibly important to the deer-legged youth. XIX had been determined to fix things between him and the exotic raven, as he refused to lose another wolf in his life. At first he thought that it might have been loneliness that had pushed him toward Bastet, but he knew deep down that it was something else. Their sour meeting had left an undesirable taste in his mouth, and he could not tip toe around her any longer in the River densite. Now things were mended between the two, leaving Lachesis feel content; he had missed her and her strange accent. He was committed to putting more of an effort into their friendship/relationship/whatever it was; he would not push her away. XIX could not do that to her again.

Giving his head a quick shake, Lachesis dismissed the thoughts that had pooled inside of him as he moved silently through the territory. He was exploring the north end of the Lagoon in hopes of stumbling across a loner in search of a pack, but his head was far too clouded for him to focus on his task. They were positive thoughts, but they were still a distraction. With his inventory overflowing Lachesis was also refusing to search for plants to keep his senses alert. Cut Rock needed members, and he was determined to find a loner who possessed the qualities Maksim was looking for. The glow of the morning sun illuminated the Lagoon as he strayed away from the water, his pale eyes searching for movement in the distance. His deer-like body kept close to the tree line, his movements uncharacteristically slow as he observed his surroundings through narrowed brows. With the arrival of fall lone wolves would soon be searching for packs in order to survive the winter, and XIX was determined to recruit some of them.

Morning dew clung to his pearly white fur as he continued his leisurely walk; the air was crisp and stung his damp nose as he inhaled the many scents that engulfed the territory. Perhaps it was too early to be out searching for wolves… Any sane wolf would be sleeping at this hour. Lachesis, however, had developed some insomnia in Capella’s absence. His sleeps were replaced by sporadic naps throughout the day, which he felt helped him function better. Nineteen enjoyed his nightly walks; there was another side of Relic Lore to be discovered under the cover of darkness. Despite being mentally stable, Lachesis was still occasionally haunted by nightmares of his visit to the mountains with Anastasia. As of recently, these nightmares often included Capella – so the shorter the sleep he had, the less frequent these nightmares were.

He shuddered at the thought. It had been the snow that had stolen Anastasia away from him, and consumed her. Nineteen would always remain positive that she had found her way off the mountain and had found a pack outside of the Lore to call home. He had to be positive; his sanity depended on it. The thought of her dead… he couldn’t.

A flash of bright, sunflower eyes crossed his thoughts. What of Capella? Was she calling another pack home? Or had something else – something much, much worse – happen to her? No. Anger gnawed at his stomach as these thoughts crossed his mind. He needed to remain positive about her as well, regardless of how bitter he was over her disappearance. As frustrated as he was over her absence, he was still devastated – he missed her, terribly, and wanted her to return to Cut Rock. But would Maksim allow her to return? Only if her reason was justifiable – he knew Maksim had no time for bullshit, especially with their dwindling numbers.

A frown creased his dark lips as his thoughts lingered on the pale, sunflower-eyed girl. Her memory was so vivid that he could almost smell her… wait. His long, stilt-like legs stopped abruptly, nearly causing the medic to topple over as his maw swung around rapidly. No… nonono! Was that really her, or was he losing his mind? Had all his grief finally caught up with him and distorted his sense of reality?

His ears were pinned forward as he listened to the sound of another maneuvering through the foliage… It couldn’t be… Had his positivity paid off? XIX inhaled once more, letting the familiar scent to linger before his legs subconsciously began moving in her direction. He continued sniffing at the air in disbelief as a flurry of different emotions consumed him.

As much as he wanted to believe it wasn’t her, he knew deep down that he was.

And Lachesis wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Once her pale form came into sight XIX realized something was wrong. Her scent, although warm and welcoming, was all wrong. There was a strange stench clinging to her pelt, something eerily earthy and … musky, but she was also hurt. He stopped once more, his throat clenched as he searched for something – anything – to say. As much as he wanted to run toward her and embrace her there was something holding him back. Of course he was overjoyed at the sight of her, but there was also anger… betrayal… confusion. Why had she left and suddenly returned after being gone for weeks?

Most importantly, how would Bastet feel about her return? He had just mended their relationship, and cared for the raven-coloured female immensely… he couldn’t stand to push her away and hurt her again.

How did he feel?