OoC: This is what I came up with - after the pack hunt, I guess? Grumpy!Slay is PMSing. x3
It irked him a little, it did: all these new wolves, all of a sudden. Why did it seem like every time he took a break from pack life, new members flocked to his pack? It wasn't like he normally wandered around the border scaring them off. Although sometimes he considered it; the males, at least. It wouldn't bother the arctic wolf if he lived in a flower-filled valley of females again. Slay heard the names of Lubomir (Mew's friend); Sankor (related to Alexey, whom he'd met, and Adelaida, whom he had not); and Ril'o (...whose scent entwined suspiciously with Cercelee's).
Most times Slay avoided real emotions - getting upset was an easy trigger for his narcolepsy to prey on, and he hated waking up in unfamiliar places. Loneliness he was used to and often sought out; anger he bottled up and buried, only to be used in extreme circumstances. But this... He had always felt protective of his small friend, from the day they met and he promised to fend off the inevitable suitors interested in her cute expressions and mischievous attitude. Not that he ever had; most of the time she did her wandering and flirting whilst Slay napped or avoided work. When he missed her cheer, he would seek her out, the same as she would look for him when she needed a release from the stress of her position. They were friends, and they enjoyed acting like idiots around each other.
"So, as a friend, shouldn't I be happy that she's finally interested in some guy... that could bring her the happiness she needs?" he muttered, icy blue eyes fixated on his claws as he stalked up and down the shoreline. He wasn't sure what had brought him to the stretch of beach that the pack owned, other than a few half-forgotten memories. It wasn't like he... like he could give her that. He wasn't even sure if he felt that way! He recalled how upset, how enraged he'd felt upon seeing her injuries from the coyote, during the Inferni conflict that everyone was working to put behind them. He refused to join in the pack fighting, but if he found the fool who had attacked his Rosea, he would gladly have drawn first blood.
But that was just his possessiveness, wasn't it? And he was too old to actually court her - he was over twice her age, and would surely want something she wasn't ready for. This new youngster, Ril'o or whatever, could match her exuberance. Besides, how could he get serious with anyone, when he couldn't sleep at night and randomly passed out during the day? Even the most patient of partners would get sick of his constant interruptions.
"It's just... frustrating to watch," Slay grumbled, in an uncharacteristically grumpy mood. His sullen reflection stared back at him on the rippling waves of the ocean water, black and white on a sea of blue. The mid-afternoon sun was half-way through the sky, letting its warm rays cool off before casting shadows across the big male.
"I can't even shift. I don't know what the hell I want."
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
