@Danica jump starting this cause I'm running out of time haha.
back dated to 4/6 if you don't mind.



Gent had left his home briefly to travel to Ghastly Woods. Small clusters of Solomon's Seal were beginning to spring up, and while it was not the optimal time of year to harvest, Lugh's injuries required that Gent do everything he could and utilize everything he could find. Thus now, as he passed through the easily navigable lanes of the Wild Cherry Orchard, he carried a nest of thin, wispy roots between his jaws. He'd been sure to dig up plenty, to make up for the lack of maturity of their growth. His paws were thick with mud and his tongue recoiled at the bitter taste of soil. When he could no longer stand it, he took a moment's pause under the shade of a stubby cherry tree, depositing the medicinal roots on the ground and then hurriedly licking his shoulder, using his rough fur to clean the dirt from his mouth.



It was a less than princely display, but he didn't quite care. He was oblivious to the world around him for that moment, until one particular scent crossed through his nostrils and set off alarm bells in his head. Immediately, Gent's head snapped up, blue eyes straining to take in more and more of his surroundings to find and track her visually. The one wolf he wished not to harm from the pack Minka had decided for him was his enemy, happened to be the first he would run across. A part of him considered grabbing his harvest and splitting before she could run into him, but he couldn't. There was a question he needed to ask, first, and... Minka would understand, wouldn't she? Allowing a friend one chance? If not, he would have to make her see. Gent refused to break his friendship with the yearling now.



"Danica?" he called out, stepping out from under the tree and into the naturally-formed aisle way. "Danica, come here."



Gent tried not to sound too gruff, but he needed her to know, this was serious. As quickly as he could ask his question and shoo her away, the better; it could be disastrous for both of them to get caught.

Gent heard the unintended bark slice through the air, and swiftly directed his paws en route to where the sound originated. As he moved through the gnarled limbs of the blackberry bushes, he began to hear her call out his name, strangled with panic but oddly distant. The volume contradicted with where the rest of his senses told him she was located, and while he rushed his gait he also became far more alert, wondering if something was around that was frightening her and causing her to attempt to hush her frantic beckoning. A mirroring fear rose up inside him as, while he couldn't pick up sign of anything remotely threatening around him, he worried for her safety.



It felt like an eternity between when he had called out to her and when he finally came to find her. She was standing on all fours, breathing heavily and looking as though something had thoroughly scared the wits out of her. Still extraordinarily concerned, Gent swiftly closed the distance between them, nudging her shoulder. The bulge of her stomach had not gone unnoticed, something that slightly unsettled the man for several reasons all having to do with Danica's age, but given her other state he pushed it back instead of giving the thought priority.



"Danica, what is wrong? Are you okay?"

A nightmare? Gent's taut muscles slackened as relief swept over his body, a sigh rolling off of his tongue. He buried his maw within her buttercream fur as she pressed against him, and touched his cheek momentarily to her's as she pulled away to reassure her of her safety with him. The little scare had only serve to solidify his determination in his self-undertaken mission. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to explain why he had such a strong need to protect his friendship with Danica and to shield her from harm, but the desire was there nonetheless and he wasn't fighting it.



Her question caught him off guard. It was an odd inquiry, and he had to wonder, was she aware of the impending war between their packs? She would clearly be able to smell his new allegiance on his pelt, and while he knew Minka was keeping her plans as secret as possible, of course Danica and her mother Nina should know of bloodshed committed on their own soil. It didn't bode well. Perhaps the Secret Woodlands matriarch had condoned the attacked, perhaps more violence was inevitable. But then why was the princess so close to their self-proclaimed enemies, then? It was a faint hope, but he wished for it to be true nonetheless, that the attack had somehow been rogue, that the perpetrators had already been sentenced by their own community and that Nina's only crime lay in not approaching Minka to apologize for what had transpired. That was the only way he could be guaranteed that Danica would be safe. While he could never bring himself to harm the young lady, what if his pack targeted her? What if she herself chose to fight, what if it came down to saving Danica or saving Minka? Gent wasn't at all confident that he could predict what his choice would be.



"Fine," he answered, not willing to talk directly of what was happening between their packs. In the end, Minka would not be able to call him a traitor.



"Danica, remember when we first met? The woman who approached us to make sure you were alright, and who hunted with me along with Hollow? Iopah was her name, right? How has she been?"