Whitestone Monadnock Nothing gets done with dust in your gun

Piety seemed just as itching to return based on the way she bounded ahead and then circled back around to sandwich between the two males. He chuckled, nudging his mate playfully, glad to share the bliss of this moment. Everything seemed to be coming together so nicely. They had a good, strong pack with solid bonds. They had a strong, healthy son. They had one of their own returning back to the fold. Sure, there'd been a few bumps along the way, but overall, Whitestone was prospering and Wraith was relieved to know it.

The great brute sputtered indignantly as Odin took off. "Old man?!" he called after him. Oh, he'd show him old man! With a playful nip of encouragement to his much faster mate to show the little brat how it was done, Wraith took off after Odin and snapped at his bushy tail before overtaking him.

The gold of his eyes were bright like the sun when he looked back at Whitestone's prodigal son. "Who's the old man now, ya punk!" Wraith laughed. Yearlings! Always thinking they were tough shit. The male grinned. He supposed he had helped raise him that way.