I hope you don't mind a fourth. 300+
His paws carried him autonomously over paths he had tread a thousand times before, the bulk of those instances occurring since this bullshit war had begun. He proceeded as an animal of much lower intelligence, for his mind was so frazzled and confused by everything that had happened to his family that he could not focus on more than what his duty required of him. His ears perked straight, his nose constantly twitched, and his tired eyes scanned the area around him on his automatic search for anything that would distress his pack further, which he could barely even imagine. Though the war had not touched him quite as closely as it had some, Kansas was fraught with terror that, any day, any hour, it would. Thus was his careful attention to the activity of the borders. Perhaps by now, it had become obsession, blocking out everything else from his conscious mind, while inside he was completely consumed by fear. He was constantly nauseous, unable to eat with his usual fervor, and exhausted beyond his belief. The only thing keeping him from falling to the ground right at that moment was the hope that this would all end soon, and that things would become what they had been before.
Kansas had been out for a few hours when several scents at once hit him right in the face. The first, and most pungent, was the unpleasant aroma of cigarette smoke, which made the man cringe unknowingly as he continued on. But the smell of burning tobacco did not trouble him half so much as the other scents, belonging to two strangers a short distance away. Immediately, he was filled with dread, regardless of whether the pair brought trouble with them. The possibility of direct conflict made him instantly feel sicker, as he was not adept at dealing with that kind of thing. However, Kansas did the opposite of what his nature encouraged him, and sped up to see what was going on ahead, a graceful ghost drifting quickly through the forest.
A strange trio appeared, one of them standing back at the borders, and as the pale wolf slowed, he took account of their odors once more. Two of the wolves, the trespassers, smelled of Cour des Miracles, and the third was one of his own, a tall, clothed werewolf he had only seen in passing. The woman looked as distressed as Kansas felt, and without even knowing her reason he felt somewhat compassionate toward her. His ear twitched in the direction of the Dreamer beside him, the one with the cigarette, and he was rather irritated by the harsh, uncaring words that the other spoke to the troubled female. In a dominant stance, Kansas looked up at him, frowned, and cocked a brow, feeling at total ease in doing so - his rank had its perks. Hey, cool it, man, he spoke softly, but firmly. The last thing Crimson Dreams needed was more hostility. ... I think we should hear why these two've come. With this, his calm eyes settled once again on the snowy Cour des Miracles wolfess,. Jus', next time, keep to the borders til someone finds you. Eh, 'm Kansas. And he closed his mouth to give her the chance to state her business unhindered.
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