and the world turns around
#2
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thanks for starting :]

The world within his borders was something that had been consistently calm. Since his tussle with Jac Heath had lived in the hopes of avoiding the King and thus in relative happiness. His time was divided between his life among the horses, his life beside Ruri, and then the rest. The world beyond was another thing, a story that Heath had not wished to delve into. Yet, the things he had heard and the idea that an attack had been made on one of their own lit a fire in the male and sent him into a protective mode that made him think that his consistent calm could come to end at any moment.

The roan mare walked beneath him, the reins were loose as the Marshal watched over the surrounding landscape. The dark faced horse knew the trail that led them along the pack’s borders. The keen beast watched and worked the warming air just as the canine did, ears flicking backwards and forwards at the sounds of the surrounding wildlife. The male placed a hand on his hip, the worn soft denim felt beneath his palm, the knife he carried noticed in his pocket. The wind was alive and well and Heath had left his western hat at the stables in the hope of not loosing it. Lumière walked over the uneven ground happily saddled with blue merle coat newly groomed and shining.

The pair continued until the wind and warming air told them that the peace had been altered. The mare paused, her ear moving to the right as she face followed. Heath read the message, his nose rising to find a scent that he had not read in some time, so long ago that it was merely a shadow of a memory. He heeled her forward, his eyes narrowing and watching for the figure that brought such a scent to their borders. It did not take long, the mare approaching in a hurry. Eager to know who it was that lingered along their homelands the roan hued horse snorted at the sight of the wolf that stood before them. The male unspoken in his question of who and why this male was here, not recognizing the worn and scarred face at the first hurried glance.

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