Sanguine Cove Crawling out of the woodwork

Backdated to November 1st
Tagging @Chan, @Moonshadow & @Aleister but open to any members of SC!
Zeal has been staying with the pack with Chan's permission for some time but has not yet formally joined and has mostly been keeping to himself while healing from his injuries.

Zeal paced along the lakeshore at a smooth lope, but there was a troubled look on his ragged features. He'd been hanging around the cove for the turn of a season now, and his wounds were no longer such a burden. He had taken to testing himself in the mornings, running along the lake's shore or scouting out past the borders, and day by day his strength had returned to him. His body had healed well - he still wore the scars, ugly and shameful, but gone were the fevers, the broken bones and torn muscles, the gaunt ghost of a man. In his place was... well, Zeal was unsure, but it was an improvement over a dead man walking. Still, he missed the rigors and the glories of the life that had once defined him. They were all lost to him him now, all his hopes and ambitions, and the fact pained him in ways he could not really explain.  

This pack had saved him, and provided a place of safety and rest, but he had kept himself apart from them, entirely what to make of the wolves here. For their part, they came and went about their business, leaving him to his own devices for the most part except for the medics who dutifully nursed him back from the brink of death. He began sleeping out in the open again as soon as he was up to it, checking in with them less often than they liked, but still, it all went along smoothly enough. When he could not be apart from them, he tolerated them, or occasionally gave a growl or a snap of his teeth should they pry too much or try to get too close. Most of the time, he was left to himself. The lake, with its still surface and cold deep silence, gave him some measure of peace.

Why was he still here? He was fit enough to hunt once more, and he could go anywhere now that he was a free man. Anywhere but back home, at least. These Cove wolves seemed... too kind, to his eye. It was far different than the way he had grown up, and he couldn't get used to it one bit, didn't want to. He wanted to tell them all how foolish they were to be so open and welcoming of whoever happened to drift in, while at the same time, he felt obliged to repay his debts to them before taking his leave. They had saved his life, after all. He didn't understand their dynamics, and didn't belong with them, but he couldn't bring himself to leave quite yet.

Pushing himself from a lope into a sprint, he reveled in the power of his limbs, the strength and speed he had once taken for granted returning to him at long last. This, at least, felt true and right, it made sense to him, and he could lose himself to it.

Chan had given the stranger as much freedom as he desired, feeling the man owed him and even the pack little. Saving a wolf who was near death was just something one did, and not for profit. Still, he attempted to keep an eye on him while still maintaining space, concerned that his health might lapse given the severity of the trauma endured.

Thankfully, that hadn't happened. The Eastfall saw the darker-colored man now, pushing his muscles to their limit and rocketing over the earth. A smile flashed over his tawny maw before he put his own long legs into gear. Chasing after and catching up to the other man, Chan pulled up even with Zeal, matching his pace.

His mismatched gaze stayed locked ahead, at the terrain their legs were devouring, enjoying the rush of cardio as his counterpart was.