[/html]He had lurked this place for some time, a few weeks maybe, as he stubbornly argued with both his own conscience and that of the guardian owl that followed him around. Should he try to return to AniWaya once again? His conscience demanded he do so; surely his mother was worrying for him in his absence yet again. Surely Noir hadn't made any progression in growing up since the last time he'd seen her, last May. Like he, Noir would be two at the end of December, and he'd made it his mission to bully her into growing up, since nothing else worked. If she didn't grow up at some point, when would she? After all, no one lives forever.
AniWaya was days away by foot, and above all else, the Aston boy was lazy. Winter had made it difficult to hunt—he wasn't really the hunting type anyway, so why get in the way of the many others that did such a wonderful job at it?—and the boy was hungry, alone. Attila had crafted some poor, makeshift den beneath a tree somewhere, but utterly forgot its whereabouts when it came to finding it later. Damn the snow—it masked every guiding scent he could use. How he'd even managed to get back over the mountains from the charred wasteland was a wonder, since his sense of smell had been ultimately useless.
Despite the rain and snow, however, fresh smells lingered in the air. He had seen no signs of life around his horrible little den in days; what wolves could have gathered so close? He raised his iced eyes to the barn owl that hovered about in the barren treetops over him and uttered just one word: "Go." Markku instantly took off into the air while Attila hung back, collapsed onto his haunches, biting at his ass and scratching at his ear.
Markku returned some time later, catching a leafless branch in his talons and relaying all he had heard to the boy so far below. The owl's words intrigued him; the boy shifted almost instantly and, against the owl's argument, stepped undauntedly from whence Markku had came.
Attila stood tall, unafraid as he arrived among them. Iced eyes surveyed the group only briefly—he recognized not a once—before he openly spoke. "I hear talk of a place underground," he said, a twitch at his ear. A pause. "My name is Attila Aston. I want in."
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