A call rose up and Conor’s body automatically shifted and turned in its direction. It was not often he was called for, and so he was curious about what it could be. The optime pushed himself up from his spot under a tree outside the house he and his family lived in and decided after a moment of hesitation to leave the book he was reading inside the entrance hall so that he would not risk leaving it for potential rain to ruin. The children were too old to find it exciting to chew apart any longer. The young male turned and paused for a moment more; taking in the emptiness left after Alexey Koios. Fingers curled up to fists, but it was alright. It would be okay. Perhaps it had been the best thing she could have done for him. Now he would be able to let go more easily.
A few minutes more were spent in his optime before he made the choice to change into four legs to pick up the pace. It was a long way from Wolfville to the borders, and the surprise was very pleasant when he later saw Bris’ form moving towards him. A good thing he had come from the city then, or else he would have to follow their trail. As he closed in on the pale pack member he also saw someone else, and his pace died. It was a small child and he looked horrible. Lips tensed and Conor locked his jaws and muscles in place before the frown managed to interrupt his soft features. He could feel his heart pace climb and fire burn in his chest. Instead of letting go though, the golden male merely swallowed and closed his eyes for a brief moment before continuing towards the duo.
He wished for nothing more to take the child in his arms. ”Bris,” he greeted softly with a nod, letting his lavender eyes rest on her face for a split moment before it fell down on the little, injured child. This was something that should not happen. Ever. Yet here he stood gazing at yet another child reeking of blood and nothing. Bris had brought him into the lands, but Conor doubted it was merely for medical reasons. It was true that Dahlia’s alpha could patch him up, but that was not all. The boy did not belong in these lands—under the heavy fragrance of copper there was no pack claiming this small boy. It was fucked up and it was wrong, and lilac eyes held sorrow in them as he watched the poor thing. ”Hey, you! I'm Conor.” A false smile settled on the yearling’s lips, but the child would not be able to tell. He turned to Bris, awaiting the explanation he knew would come.