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483
Dated January 4th, if that's okay :3
Belle walked on as strong as ever, and the Chief could not help but feel pride in his heart. This horse, she was impossible to tire, he was sure of it. The journey he had started was important, and he believed he had chosen a good time to conduct it; food was scarcer in winter, and if packs had been wise, they would have storages, and thus the need for hunting would be greatly lessened. With so much spare time, there was certainly time enough for trades and pack-to-pack exchanges. Many, many hours had passed since his first encounter with a coyote up in Inferni. Then, Anathema and Phoenix Valley, and now Dahlia de Mai. So many packs! He was amazed at how quickly the two newest ones had established themselves, and thought he had not until this trek approached Anathema, he had close friends there, and that had postponed the urgency. The pack of artists, on the other hand, was a more pressing matter. Still, he did not fear any of them, even though he had approached Inferni with caution. Dahlia de Mai had changed, they said, under the leadership of Haku's son, and Dawali hoped with every fibre in his body that the son was nothing like his father, for hatred still burned vividly in his heart at the thought of Noir's death. What father could do such a thing? If the son was respectable, surely that was a miracle.
As he recognised a decisive increase in their scents,t he Chief halted the horse's movements, and for a moment looked around himself to find a suitable place ot wait. He contemplated for a moment calling out; after all, in this case he was mostly interested in meeting with Conor himself. He had a need to see that this was someone he could trust. However, having never met Haku before his death, there was perhaps little to compare to. The russet-colored male hesitated before lifting his muzzle to call out, emitting a long and clear sound that cut through the chilled winter air almost like an arrow's flight. As he got off the mare and fastened her, made ready some food and found a comfortable place to sit while he waited, he could not help but remember his last encounter here. The dark warrior female, Cwmfen; was she here again? He had heard she had returned, but it could be rumors. Besides his tribe's Masters and his own parents, he knew of no one he respected more. Perhaps he was in luck and could find her here. They had not spoken since the Brennt incident, not properly, and the impact of his actions yearned to be shared with someone who understood. The male sat in silence as hopeful thoughts and vicious memories flashed through his brain. With little to do while waiting, it was hard not to let your mind wander.