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-dances-
Thank the spirits for that stone knife of his. Had it not been for the various hobbies he had practiced with his mother as a child, the Chief would likely have gone mad while this leg healed. His fingers had produced so many blankets and woven so many baskets in the past few weeks, they had become sore at first and then hardened to the materials. Still, he knew very well that he should not be up and walking, but enough was enough today. Spring was his favorite season, and when the morning sun had waked him through the window that morning he had not been able to resist. The stone knife hung in his belt and dangled as he moved in jumps, his home-made crutches being quite able to carry him, but not exactly with grace. He had had so many spare hours he'd carved elaborate markings into the two support-devices, and was pretty satisfied with the look of them. Perhaps he would seek out the craftsmen of the pack to learn more about this kind of craft. It certainly felt better than making all those useless blankets just as the warm season was approaching.
He aimed for the Aston den, and the dirt path was just hard enough now not to let the crutches sink through. The trek wasn't short, but it felt very nice, if strange, to be up and out on his own. Sakari made for good company and she certainly helped him if he asked her to, but it was suffocating for him to have to stay inside, and around the same person. Sitting there, he'd had plenty of time to analyze pack events and personal history, and he'd reached the conclusion that a meeting with the shy Aston boy was by far overdue. Claudius was so anonymous (and perhaps he made certain he was anonymous on purpose, too), it was easy to forget to notice him in a crowd. Dawali, however, had already failed Noir, and Attila had followed his mother and obviously did not seek a connection to his birth tribe. Océane appeared independent and strong, thus Claudius' name had risen to the top of the list of personal matters at hand. Besides, it was strange to think of himself as someone of influence within the Aston family, when he did not even know the children well. After all, they had changed quite a bit since they were little pups.
Pausing for a breath as he closed in on the den, Dawali finally approached the entrance and called out softly. For some reason, he assumed Claudius could be startled easily. "Claudius? Are you home?" If he wasn't around, he had to have just left, as his scent was strong. Wincing briefly, the male waited and shifted his weight onto the crutches, but straightening his back. The leg had multiple supports in lashings and splints on either side, but it was hard not to move it and it throbbed after moving all the way over here. He strove, however, to ensure that this pain was not apparent.