He had figured out, finally, how to shift back from his bipedal form and, having felt he had mastered it, he was now trying to obtain the third rumoured form. He didn't know if it existed or not, and had only heard of it in passing (gossip and the like) while he slunk low around the bushes, but he wanted it nonetheless. Powerful and huge, it was said to be, quick and built purely for power and speed. Such a form would be most helpful in his desires to bring Gabriel down and to head the clan into being what it needed to be; a group of coyotes worthy of their name who did not sit around and cool their heels, but would be able to take three wolves apiece. They would be strong enough.
But to do that he needed to annihilate Gabriel, and also any who stood up for the eldest hybrid. He didn't want to do it so much as it was a necessity, for Andre had always been a kid about necessity, and it was one to fight. To hurt and try to kill. It burned in his stomach, spread to his toes, and launched him into a fray that need not even exist. Control had been maintained up until Die Bohrung, but that had been a more enlightening situation.
He still kicked himself whenever he thought of how he'd been drawn so easily into admitting that he would never love. That was something nobody needed to know, or could already infer, but uttering it as if it were not something the world did not need to know? He was a fool for ever doing that. He had retreated to the swamp, then, away from the structure off the beach and through the city and finally to the swamp. It was disgusting, and even in the midst of winter, the water battled on. He growled at the sucking sounds that dominated it, and pressed onward.
And that's when he came emerged on the coastline, right behind Hybrid, snarling bitterly at the surrounding territory.