“Yes,” he smiled, his voice accompanied by a short nod, “Some of the pack disappeared during the flood, but your father stepped up once we relocated. He is a natural leader.” From what XIX could remember, the agouti had little issues with others trying to dethrone him. Due to unforeseeable events, Lachesis had been thrust into the position of his second. Never had the ghost felt the lust for leadership; he had always been content being Maksim’s right hand man. They had been an unlikely duo, but it had worked, their friendship strengthening through the roles they possessed.
Despite the desolate landscape of the tundra, Lachesis often missed the land that birthed him. It was not like the lowlands here; no, it was so much more. Perhaps, one day, he would return—but, for now, this was home and until he felt the overwhelming desire to seek out his birthplace once more, it would remain his home. “Hunting is definitely one thing the lowlands is good for,” he agreed with another nod. There was always an abundance of food, as the herds often travelled through the open terrain in order to migrate to another section of the Lore, for it was easier than travelling through the mountains. “I hope we will be one day.” A frown creased his stoic features, brow furrowing. “It’ll take time.”
The young Baranski’s optimism was a welcome change. His previous scowl was wiped away and he nodded in agreement, chartreuse gaze fixated on the smudge. “I think you’d make an excellent recruiter,” he laughed, tail wagging behind him enthusiastically. Perhaps Inna was the face Hearthwood needed to attract loners to their ranks…
stick with those who stick with you