Would he forever carry himself this way? His shoulders rolled forward, head parallel with the ground and purpose and annoyance set deep in his brow. The male moved with ease through the familiar territory. His memory was sharp, and knowledge of terrain keen. He could picture each hill and valley, each fallen tree, each streaming crick. The path was not one that was worn by frequent use, but he had been here before. The weather was similar to his last visit; rain fresh in the ground and clouds looming heavily above his head. He walked in his halfling form, infrequently used but useful nonetheless. And the seemingly largest of his form Heath looked just slightly larger then a normal wolf.
The rain still fell, soaking his shoulders and back. The scent of the pack boarder filtered from the ground up, and Heath passed over it with ease and no hesitation. He came with a purpose, though it was not a solid and meaningful idea. He wanted to see Haven, the young male that he hadn’t spoken too for some time. Heath knew he resided here, or at least thought it. His first attempt to him in had lead to a quick fight with a pathetic male, the thought of it brought a smirk to his face. His pace quickened. The male almost hoped to find him again, see if his cut had healed and if he learned anything new. The tawny male scoffed at the idea. Bitches like him never learned, no matter how hard Heath tried to beat the lesson into them.