It seemed like forever since he had walked through the village, although the more logical part of him pointed out that it hadn't actually been all that long. But from the quick, curious glances he shot at the village it was clear little had changed; still boring, as if the pack was stuck at a stand still, never moving forward. Lifting his head he stopped and stared at the sky, drained of all energy from his house renovations it was tiresome for him to contemplate the village and situation within the pack; despite having been born within these lands he often felt as if he was an outsider looking in. Aniwaya was his home, and yet not his home; his family had abandoned him for elsewhere and without them beside him, the young Nishant couldn't truly accept himself as a member of the pack.
So strangely lost in thought he almost ignored the woman’s call; it wasn't as if he hadn't heard her, just that at her summons he instantly dismissed her as unimportant to him at the moment. Yet, as he considered the call he realised it was a perfect opportunity to distract him from his darkening thoughts. Turning his head slowly and bringing himself up to his full height, he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head at the other woman; unlike most days, the young hunter only had his bag of junk slung over his shoulder, his dyed designs fully on show for once. Having just moved in he had foolish put away all his clothing and couldn't quite bring himself to break into the neat and tidy of his small cabin yet. “I don't answer to 'you', especially when summoned as such by a stranger” he spoke, his voice even and bored, the tone he only used with those who were not family and those he disliked; and so far, the woman had done little to make him like her.
Image courtesy of Joachim S. Müller
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