[/html]Alder had been to the ocean more often then he ever had since he and Trent had taken a walk along the shore. He came as often as he could, looking at the waves and the expansive water. He knew the beaches, knew the large outcrops of rock and other landmarks and he remembered where he and Trent wandered. But the Marshal pushed those thoughts from his mind, and walked further and away from that place. He had been finding himself more and more confused, and less content in his ever day tasks. He had wondered away from the pack lands and scouted and hunted despite his internal fear. Simply to leave those feelings behind.
Yet, he returned to wander along the coast once more. It was not to remember laughs, and jokes. Nor playful antics and fun games. But to be close to something he could not define.
Shaking his head Alder kicked at the nearest rock, watching it tumble over itself and roll along before him. The crashing waves muffling the first sounds that caused him to cock his head. Had he heard a voice? He looked out to the sea, was he so delusional that he was not only creating feelings inside but also voices in his head? Then it happened again, as the waves were low and just whistling back into the water. Alder broke into a run and saw a mess of figures in the distance as he turned a bend. He slowed once he recognized the sight of a small horse and a creature much like a coyotes. Who smelled much like Trent.
Finally Alder could laugh, a break in the tension that he had felt building around his vision of the coywolf. Walking up to the pair he looked at the pony’s face, speaking a lick of low speech to get her perspective. She certainly likes you. He spoke, reaching out with a hand to help the other Courtier up.