He was sure that his family's love of medicine was what had driven him away from it. The idea of conforming, of giving away his choice of a career, had seemed sick and wrong to him. His father had learned to shift, somehow, and the business had skyrocketed...but Zephyr had never felt the urge to catch the Luperci virus. He felt that he was just fine the way he was, perfect the way he was. Why change the way he'd been made? He got along just fine.
Stormcloud male sighed as he exited his den, a hole dug into the ground inside the hollow of a large, rotting tree. The branches still held some leaves, which blocked most of the rain, and because the wood was so soft it had been easily scraped out and pushed aside by his willing paws. He had been thinking about doing some more work on it, maybe going to Halifax to get some supplies to make the den stronger, with more support, but had not gotten around to it just yet. He was still getting used to Esper Hollow, and was not sure about leaving it so soon to travel so far. He would have to start early in the morning.
So instead he set to digging, shouting out a lively tune as his paws worked the hole a little bit deeper.
"O! our sodger lads looked braw, looked braw,
Wi' their tartan kilts an' a', an' a',
Wi' their bonnets an' feathers an' glitt'rin' gear,
An' pibrochs sounding loud and clear.
Will they a' return to their ain dear glen?
Will they a' return oor Heilan' men?
Second sichted Sandy looked fu' wae.
An' mithers grat when they march'd away. "
