It was strange to think of how much time had passed since his blue-eyed china doll had been taken from him. They had been so determined to find Karpos and Adsila that they had ignored how dangerous attempting to cross the snow-covered mountains was. XIX still liked to think that she had been recused from the mountain and was living with another pack until she was ready to return to him and Cut Rock. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think of her, or miss her. She had saved him after he had been separated from his brother, and had helped mold him into the wolf he now was. He knew that she would be so proud to see how confident he had become in her absence. His stutter had completely disappeared, and he no longer trembled at the thought of encountering another wolf. Of course, he still preferred to be on his own – and always would – but he was far more willing to strike up conversation (and maintain one!) than he had been before.
Thoughts of Anastasia consumed him as he maneuvered through the trees, his tall body remaining close to pack borders as he moved with a ghostly grace. The morning sun illuminated the forest as it crept through the branches, chasing away the darkness that night had left behind. While his relationship had been mended with Bastet XIX still wasn’t sleeping much. Capella had reappeared briefly and it seemed as though she had disappeared again… Lachesis wasn’t sure what was going on with her anymore. He loved her, he knew that, but having her leave… he couldn’t handle it, and he would not allow it to consume him. He had a pack to lead (even if it was only temporary) and could not allow his woes to fall upon Bastet, or the other wolves of Cut Rock.
His movements ceased abruptly as an uncomfortable feeling settled over him. Something, someone, had been lurking around the borders… but there was no scent? Perplexed, he padded forward as his head spun around searching for the source of the eerie presence. Glancing down he could see not only his own tracks in the dirt, but those of another. His blood ran hot as he sniffed heavily at the prints, searching for something identifying who they belonged to… but nothing. There was nothing. Tracks without a scent? Was that even possible? Goosebumps lingered against his skin as a chill ran down his spine… attempting to shake it off Lachesis continued forward at a slow pace, his pear-coloured eyes searching the area for shadows lurking nearby.
stick with those who stick with you