There was so much focus on the new additions to the pack that Greer was able to slip in and out of the pack boundaries as much as he pleased without being noticed. He always tried to come back with something – whether it was food to add to the cache, or information about nearby wolves/packs. The smudge prince tried to avoid bothering his mother as much as possible, as she already had her paws full. His father… well, Greer was never really sure where he was. The two had not bonded the way that a father and son should – instead, Greer seldom spoke to him, and focused the majority of his attention on Elettra. It was not because he disliked his father; he just did not have much in common with him. Greer was a willowy, “lurk in the shadows” type, as opposed to being brawny and possessing the qualities of a guaradian.

However, today, Greer was going to have to play Guardian, or protector, or whatever.

A vaguely familiar scent pulled him away from his thoughts. It was a mixture of sweet mother’s milk and damp earth, but it was not one of his siblings’… Shit. He had nearly forgotten about his brother’s illegitimate child. Grumbling to himself, the long-legged boy started stalking toward the little Archer; despite his presence being unwanted, he was still blood and still too far from his den (wherever that was). It did not take long for him to spot the stark-white pup – who had noticed Greer at the same time. It spoke, mirroring the same speech patterns that Greer used, yet the snowball’s words still held that ‘puppy accent’. “Greer,” he responded grumpily as a frown cut into his lips. “Sven go home.” The shadow prince did not know where Skoll and his lady set up camp, but he needed to make sure that the alabaster Sven made it back there in one piece.

The child had irritated him. As far as Greer remembered, he had been nothing like the pale ball of fluff before him. He had been reclusive and obedient (except when it came to exploring). He tried to stay as close to the den as possible when he was young, only venturing further when his mother had allowed it. He had never talked back to those older than him, even though there were times when he desperately wanted to. A frown creased his maw at the pup’s refusal to return home; instead, the child insisted that the shadow prince go home. He snorted in annoyance at the comment, his brows narrowing as he examined the young boy. “No,” he started with a low growl, his silver eyes frozen on the pale child.

The only wolf Greer obeyed was his mother – no other wolf would tell him what to do, and if they tried to the raven would refuse (aka ignore). His lip curled slightly as he continued to observe the young Archer. “Sven go with Greer,” he offered coolly though his brows were still narrowed. If the boy refused to turn back and tried to venture further, Greer would prevent it. He did not want to get scolded or punished by his brother for allowing his son to wander off in the woods. He knew that the boy’s disappearance would please Elettra, but the raven was not so sure he could allow it to happen. Although Sven had been the result of betrayal, he was still blood – and blood always came first.

Greer wasn’t sure if he liked the pale abnormality. He was stubborn and irritating – so much so that the shadow debated on turning around and allowing the little Archer to get lost. However, he knew that he could not do that. Although he barely spoke to his older brother, the child before him still shared the same bloodline. Unfortunately, he could not just allow the pale rascal to become prey to any creatures lurking around.

The frustration in the little ball of fluff was quite apparent – and rather amusing. A glimmer of a smile appeared on his dark lips as he observed the angry pup. Stranger. Well, that much was true – while Greer knew who Sven was, the little dove would have no clue who the long-legged raven was. “No,” he started, voice stern as he kept his mercury gaze focused on the youngster. “Greer is Archer.” Hopefully the little Archer would know what the surname meant and would understand that they were related. Would this make them… cousins? Was Greer his uncle? A frown cut across his maw at the thought, but he quickly brushed it aside; it was not important. They were related and that was all that mattered. Hopefully their relation would make little Sven more inclined to listen to the slender male.

He understood why the child was so determined on refusing his commands. Greer could remember being desperate to explore the area surrounding the family den when he was Sven’s age. However, the raven had been blessed with two brothers to accompany him (when he didn’t want to be alone) whereas little Sven was without siblings – which only fueled his desire to explore. Perhaps if the seething ball of fluff simmered down, Greer would take him the long way back to his den and allow the boy to explore a little more. 

It seemed as though Greer’s plan had been successful—name-dropping had caused the little Archer’s expression to immediately calm. The previous fury that had taken hold of little Sven had been smoothed out, the wrinkles unfolded by a burning curiosity. Stuttering, the pale child spoke quickly, questioning Greer on his relation to his father. While the assassin and his older brother had never really bonded, per se, they were still blood. Regardless of how many words were exchanged between the two, they were still family (even with Skoll’s defiance against their mother).

He gave a quick nod in response to the boy’s question before allowing words to fall from his tongue. “Skoll’s father is Greer’s older brother.” He paused, allowing the words to sink in. “Have same mother,” he added with another nod and a swish of his feathery tail. At least his broken speech came in handy when dealing with the children of Willow Ridge—it was easier for them to understand; simplified.

Observing the pale creature before him, the smudge’s lips drew tight once more. Perhaps they did not have to return to the den so soon… Greer could remember being desperate to explore at Sven’s age. And the boy was with his uncle after all… surely it would be alright? There was no reason to rush, as long as Sven remained safe and didn’t get into any trouble. Greer knew he could handle any scolding from the little ghost’s mother if she did not agree with their distance from the den. It was on the outskirts of the Ridge territory, which concerned the assassin—while he agreed with his mother’s decision, the raven worried that something would happen to the child (and his parents) and the rest of the pack would be unaware. Or, perhaps, that was his mother’s plan… Unsure of how to feel about that, Greer returned his attention once more to his pale nephew.