Sex: MaleDated 11/27 - clear skies, early morning.
Random Event: Magpies have overrun the forest.
He stood beside her grave, gazing somberly upon it. It was decorated by various gifts left by nameless members of the pack, and he did not even attempt to sort out who may have brought what. His own offering, a sprig of lavender (the last he was likely to find this year) lay across the dirt. It had not been able to garner grass, the change of season working against the earth as it attempt to reclaim what had been gouged from it, and he was made to think of Tokino's grave, how different it was. He lay beneath gravel and nutrientless dirt, rotted and unyielding to anything, unmarked and unknown to all but a pawful. Minka had been gifted an entire clearing of beauty, her grave so clearly decorated that even strangers passing through could not mistake what this place was to the neighboring pack. Yet what did it matter, really? Gent did not believe that either existed still, able to know what respect was or was not being paid to them, much less to know the trinkets left to them out of rememberance. Still he had brought something. Why?
His thoughts were disturbed as a raucous fluttering sounded overhead, three magpies cutting through the canopy to land on separate branches. His pale eyes regarded them without intent, but before he could lower his gaze, more began to gather. It must be a migrating flock, he thought to himself, as they perched upon the skeleton limbs of the crab apple trees that guarded the glen. He never much liked such large gatherings of birds, but didn't think to react to them, instead bringing his gaze back to the earth dismissively. Then he heard something drop from the branches. His eyes snapped to the stone banks of the wading pool, where a new spot of white and green now existed. Gent's ears snapped back and his muzzle wrinkled as it registered that one of the winged rats had shit upon the glen.
His glacial gaze returned to the canopy, to the vast number of birds, and realized how drastically they might decimate this sacred ground. A growl tore through his throat, and he let out a harsh bark to startle them from their roosting. It was a course of nature, he could never think to protect the clearing from any animal that may traipse by, yet when it came to protecting Minka he had always lost a small portion of his rationale. The birds quickly returned, having merely hopped from the scare, and Gent knew it would take more to get them to leave. With abandon he suddenly sprung forward, slamming his forepaws against one of the barren trees and releasing a barrage of barks, frightening the birds far more than the single one previously had. They took to the sky and moved on from the glen, but he was not yet happy. He chased them, from tree to tree, further and further away, the racket echoing throughout the timbers.