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When the Wind blows......[m]
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The meeting with DaVinci had ended well, at least Lysander thought so. What made it even better was that the second in command of their pack had been visibly annoyed at Lysander’s foolish and fumbling words. All had gone grandly and now Lysander was officially part of Phoenix Valley, as DaVinci had called it shortly before they had left. After the meeting Lysander had back tracked a bit, picking up his cloth sack and bringing it into the pack lands, his new home, and promptly burying it and it’s contents (minus a few trinkets he pulled out) in the frozen ground. None of it’s contents were particularly important, but Lysander had wanted to bring them with him all the same and he didn’t quite feel like carrying them. He doubted anyone who disturb the bundle of garbage until he found a more fitting home for it– and himself.
Now a few days later, after some much needed rest and a few good meals to rejuvenate himself form his journey, the steel and snow colored male was out again, his eyes glinting at just about everything they laid sight on. On two legs he strode easily past the ranch, ignoring the animals just as DaVinci had bade him. Of course, at another time they would fall victim to his shanagins, but in his current state Lysander was more interested in finding something smarter than a cow to converse with. In his palm he fingered one of the many trinkets he had brought with him, the glass beads strung together into a bracelet, every color imaginable represented and they were all vibrant, casting small dots of color on the snow when he held it up to the light.
As he neared the mill he caught her scent, and his fist closed tightly around the meaningless piece of jewelry. Breathing in deeply he moved forward, gray eyes dancing as they sighted the female. A sly smile worked it’s way across his lips but vanished before the girl ever turned to see him. Almost silently Ly came up behind her, clearing his throat in a warning as his empty hand closed around the wrist of the hand outstretched and touching the worn wood of the mill. At first it was hard, as if any moment he would pull her to him and harm her in whatever way took his fancy, but the touch quickly softened and he offered the strange female a warm smile. Pulling out the bracelet he held it to her wrist, still encircled in his grip. “This would look stunnin’ with your fur color. Really.”
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