As the weather grew warmer and the clouds become scarcer, Greer found himself slipping away from the Ridge as much as possible. While he enjoyed interacting with his new siblings, the shadow prince still preferred spending time by himself. He adored his family and the new little additions, but the call of adventure was too much for the long-legged smudge. It seemed he had caught the wanderlust bug that had taken Deacon away from them, but Greer was too anxious to act upon it. He had siblings to protect now… he could not imagine leaving them when they, and his mother, needed him.

Wait.

He paused, his silver orbs widening suddenly as realization settled in. Did Deacon even know he was a big brother?! The smudge had yet to encounter his brother since his departure from the pack; he had only come across Orren, a fellow yearling who was greatly stressed about D’s decision to leave. A grown cut into his dark maw as he continued forward, his brows narrowed darkly as he thundered through the grass. He needed to find his brother and tell him the news… except, he didn’t know where to start. He had already searched frantically for his brother, and had lost the scent trail many times. Surely he had not gone far… unless, of course, he never thought of returning to (or visiting) Willow Ridge. That particular thought caused his grimace to deepen – why had not D come back to the Ridge to let his family know where he was? Had he relocated so far that a quick visit was not possible? These thoughts had left the usually sullen, disconnected boy very grumpy, a feeling that Greer did not like.

He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he had not realized that the grass around him was embedded with fire-red flowers (which instantly reminded him of blood). Slowing his pace, Greer observed his new surroundings with a cautious gaze; it seemed he was alone, but one could never be too sure. He was growing tired of bumping into other wolves and having them stare at him when he either a) refused to speak and acknowledge them, or b) actually responded to them in his broken speech. It seemed that wanting to be alone was a foreign concept to Relic Lore wolves, as most strangers he encountered were very persistent on conversing with him.

It did not take the slender long to find the trail of another. While he was never in the mood to converse, Greer was always in the mood to stalk. He never followed the same wolf more than once, because that would actually be stalking, but he enjoyed the thrill of following others. It was always a gamble – would they notice him, and if they did, how would they react?

At first, the boy kept his distance from the pale female. She was the complete opposite of him. He was adorned with a coat made of the deepest obsidian; hers held the same saturation of fresh snow bathed in sunlight. His eyes were made of liquid mercury – both pale and piercing – and hers were a haunting, curious green that was filled with life. However, looks were deceiving; despite her ‘light’ appearance, she could be the complete opposite. The later seemed to be the most accurate as she unexpectedly turned to lash out at him for following her.

Puzzled, Greer stopped instantly and took a hard step back, although his pale orbs never once wavered from her figure. The moment he allowed his eyes to waver she could attack him, and Greer wasn’t looking for a fight – especially with a pack member. As soon it seemed she was about to rip him a new one, her words ceased and her expression suddenly softened. Perplexed, the boy quickly noticed that her ghoulish gaze had fallen to the scarlet-coloured flowers that littered the field. “Why would Greer follow,” he responded coolly with a quick roll of his shoulders as his lips tightened. His words were posed as a question, but it was mostly rhetorical; he was not really interested in her answer. The yearling was not interested in conversing with the pale girl, even if she was a pack member… it was nothing personal, he just did not like conversing with anyone. All he wanted was to continue on his way and explore the flower filled field, preferably without her company.

The pale, ghostly female before him was similar to the pale princess he had met in the underground lake in the sense that she talked too much. Words flowed effortlessly off her tongue, staining the air between them as she responded quickly. She hastily introduced herself in a joking manner, which would have visibly amused the boy if he wasn’t so frigid. However, on the inside, Greer was intrigued by her humour and quick-witted words. Like a statue, the boy remained calm on the surface, his mercury gaze fixated on the green-eyed girl.

It did not take long for the girl to notice that silence was preferable to the shadow prince – she even offered to leave. The boy was taken aback; he had never had another offer to leave him to his own thoughts. Immediately, the raven decided that he liked her even with her swift tongue … at least, for now. As much as he wanted to take up the ghost’s offer to be alone, he was also tempted to say that he would not mind some temporary company. Oddly enough, Hecate had captured Greer’s attention – the thought left a sour taste in his mouth; he wasn’t sure what to think. “Come or go, up to Hecate,” he answered with a smooth roll of his shoulders, his silver pools still fixated on the slender girl. “Greer don’t care,” he added with a quick nod before continuing along his previous path. He could not help but shoot a quick glance over his shoulder to see if the girl was following him. As much as he hoped that she didn’t, he also hoped that she would. She was different than the other Ridge wolves and it spiked his curiosity. Most of the Willow wolves were calm and collected, attributes of great warriors, whereas the pale female seemed … disorganized. Although the boy also possessed the cool demeanor of his pack mates, he was intrigued by her (and disliked every second of it).

While he had offered for the pale female to join him, Greer had not expected her to so readily accept. Her voice was unexpectedly chipper, taking the slender boy by surprise as she followed up behind her, words spewing from her maw. She was uncharacteristically chatty for a Ridge wolf – most of his pack mates, especially his family, were dull and stone-cold; they were not as excitable as the green-eyed ghost. At first he wanted to change his mind and retract his offer, but she was so overwhelmingly excited about having a walking partner that Greer felt as though he could not turn her away. With a soft grimace perched across his dark lips, the boy kept his distance from Hecate as they walked together, his mercury gaze falling onto her pale form sporadically.

Silence had barely settled between the two before her voice captured his attention once more, his brows narrowing softly at her question. Why was she so curious about the history of Willow Ridge? Wasn’t that something she should be asking his mother? No – his parents were far too busy to answer petty questions; they had newborns to take after. The questions of newcomers were not high on their priority lists, which meant that now Greer was going to be bombarded by them. Swallowing back a sigh before it could breach, the shadow was just about to respond as the girl spoke once more, hastily stating that he did not have to respond if he did not want to. The temptation… he thought suddenly as he debated on answering. Greer did not know too much about the history, or origins, of the Ridge – he had never asked, and had not planned to (prior to this moment). “Elettra,” he replied softly, his silver orbs focused ahead of him as he continued on: “Elettra start everything. Here since day one.” He was not really sure what answer the girl was after, but there was not much else that he knew. Wolves came and went – the original members of the pack were no longer present, and wolves were still shuffling about the ranks.

It was hard to not be intrigued by the ghost beside him. She was throwing questions at him only to retreat them and offer to remain silent – an offer that the smudge was seriously considering. However, despite her exuberant behaviour, she was still oddly intriguing. She was so different from the other Ridge wolves he had encountered, and it was … refreshing. Of course, the smudge would not admit that aloud; he wanted to maintain his stony exterior until he needed to strip it away.

As silence fell briefly between them, Greer took the rare moment to observe his pale companion. The gangly youth was not really accustomed to being around female’s who were not family members. While he continued to be a loyal member of the Ridge, the smudge failed to interact with his packmates on a regular basis. He preferred keeping to himself and tending to his duties alone; the whereabouts and actions of his packmates were not his biggest concern. The girl beside him was much different than the other women he was used to seeing. Her bright, blemish-free coat stuck out awkwardly against their lush surroundings, along with her vibrantly hued orbs. If ghosts were real, Hecate would be the perfect example of what they looked like. Her features, although spooky and peculiar, were remarkably stunning, and the boy was not quite sure how to feel about that. She was striking in the way that his mother was – she embodied a power that would flourish as she aged, just like Elettra.

Just as the thought had entered his mind, the ghost spoke of his mother, commenting how much she liked her and inspired to be like her. Dragon lady. A rare smirk found its way on onto his dark lips as his mercury gaze fell onto the pale girl – he liked that. Was he, too, a dragon – or on his way to becoming one? “Hecate remind Greer of dragon lady,” he confirmed, hoping that his broken words had built up a good enough compliment for her. “Angier father, yes. No speak to him much. More with Elettra.” While he had a fairly good(?) relationship with his father, Greer definitely spent more time with his mother. His father was more brawny and more… guardian-y, whereas the shadow was the opposite. Like a sniper, he was built for speed and precision; he was born into the shadows with an eerie grace. As much as he cared for his father, the boy had always found himself following Elettra around and observing her as she ruled with an iron paw. While they led the pack together, it was clear who was truly in charge.