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you make me want to write lol
The Marshal felt a fool, undeserving of his rank. He had led his horse and dearest friend into a thicket, down a slope and through a river bed, and he hadn't even paused to check him over more then a eye's wander. The stallion's gait did not lead him to believe that there was anything painful, but yet he could only focus on their surroundings and the secured presence of his precious catch. Tending to the steed should have been his most important priority. But the world around him was not his own, the land foreign and the scent speaking of danger. He walked among it, turned around and unable to secure his direction home as well as watch out for a stranger that may stumble upon them in this claimed land.
Alder had never stepped paw into the worlds of the norther territory, this pack was unknown and his intention was to leave as quickly as he could. Hopefully without confrontation. But, fate was not as forgiving as he hoped, and the sound of a horse, heavy to indicate a rider, came to his ears. The rider was a coyote, his gut twisting at the realization that he was in the land he knew he did not belong. His mother had stricken them from seeking out their father's clan, though they had been pups when she had spoken the words Alder held true to the warning she had given.
It was obvious that he was not welcomed here, even as a lost traveler looking for his exit. But his eyes went to the mare the stranger rode, her blustery personality causing Hawthorn to react as well. The horse was a friendly one, eager to make friends and eager even more to make the acquaintance of a thick boned mare. He called to her, a whinny that would have made Alder laugh under other circumstances.
Alder felt his mouth dry, though fleeing from the scene was not beyond his personality he still felt that perhaps this stranger could be is guide rather then taking chase and running the Cours pair out of Inferni. My apologies, I stumbled past your borders by the river. His voice called, surprisingly soft for its depth as well as his large stature. My name is Alder. I am a son of Gabriel, and the Marshal of Cour des Miracles. I mean no ill. He explained, his ears folding down as blue eyes evaded the deep crimson of the saddled coyote. Alder used the name of his mother, or his brother often, depending on where he found himself in trouble. But this was the first time he had ever said the name of his father. Unlike the others he did not feel a swell of pride, and only hoped it would keep him out of further trouble.
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