July 22nd; Mid-day; Light rain; 60 ° F, 15 ° C
Since his meeting with Ryvet, much could be assumed. Firstly, this venture - for Grizzly Hollow, for a family, for their family - had been his to bear. Yes, he had the support, there was no doubt about that, but what he truly wanted was all for him to claim on his own. After speaking with his older brother, this meant that all that was left was to speak to Borden. Borden... his Leader, patriarch, and superior. He might have been able to keep a straight face in front of his sibling, but would his father pick up on the sadness and yearning that still stirred within him? Most importantly, would today be a good day?
He dared to wonder if Titan had already dropped by to check up on the aging Lyall, leaving the rest of the afternoon free of intrusion and unappreciated disruptions. Rook had timed it all just right. While Quil and Tomen had gone off on a walk and he had had enough time to check in with his mother, he made for the den in hopes that his father had already had something to eat. If he was lucky, Borden was merely whiling the time away with a nap or just relaxing in the cool drizzle of rain that had come to their part of Relic Lore.
Shaking his pelt out twice beneath a low-hanging branch, Rook stopped as he came upon the main path to the thicket where he knew his old man laid in wait for company. As it was, it was clear that he was not to be allowed near the borders - especially after what had happened when Titan had returned - and it was in everyone's best interest if Borden remained within the heart of the territory. Taking a few steps forward, he came to regard the back of the Leader's silvered head then announced himself with a low woof.
He wondered if he would be well-received; for what seemed like several seconds, he remained in place before merely deciding that intimacy would be best. They could talk as they always had, just like those days beside the creek within the Reach, side by side and discussing the secret inner workings of the world between one another. From father to son... from an aging baron to an aspiring young lord (kings and emperors might have been something in cub stories but never had it been something to put into the Lyall hierarchy)... from M, the head of MI6, to Agent 007, James Bond, himself...
With a wagging tail, he offered Borden a smile, watching and waiting for any cue that everything was fine and that it was wholly all right to approach, that the chances of risibility and good, heart-warming conversation were at an all-time high for the first time in what could only be described as ages.