He'd been gone for days, it was a surprise to him that Krystalle had not gone searching for him, but now he was on his way home, so she had no reason to look for him. She would more than likely be angry with him for running off, but he had good reason to run off this time, so it did not matter to him that she would yell at him in Spanish when he had come into his home again. He was not looking forward to it of course, but he was going to try and not get stressed out beforehand about it. There was no reason to get stressed about it, but then again there was all the reason to get stressed about it because then she would ask him why he ran away from the Dreamer pack and his home for a period of eight or nine days. He was considered missing now. He hoped that the children were not worried about him, and that they trusted that he was okay. He knew that he needed to come up with a reason different from what he really had left for, and he had prepared slightly for this reasoning, making sure to stop by Halifax for a few days and get some objects that the family would enjoy. Books, for Krystalle, and toys for the children, as well as a guitar that was in okay shape for Amon when he finally shifted. The small guitar was missing a few strings, but Mars had those at home so he was not really worried about it. Other than that the guitar was fine, par a few dents and scratches. Mars could always paint over those though. He also had gotten some cloth, and blankets for the winter and some other small items while he was there.
He rode his buckskin steed, a moderate pace through a trail that had been in the woods not only from other prey but also from other riders that would frequently ride through these thick woods. He yawned lightly as his horse trotted along. He soon would hear the faint sounds of voices, in which he ignored at first because he thought it was going to be Bartholomew, but then he listened harder and found that none of these voices sounded like Bartholomew. He nudged Vox in the side to make the beast trot faster, in which the steed did, and he moved towards the sounds of the beings and soon, he would come upon two other males, one about the age of his own son, and daughter, and the other one slightly older, less than a year or so. The wolfdog looked at the two from behind his shades and he wondered what young wolfdogs like them were doing alone, not in a pack. Both of them looked like they were too young to even defend themselves much less feed themselves.
....Children, what are you doing out here alone? You smell of no pack, why is that? the male spoke, cocking his head to the right and giving them a questioning look.
Mars Speaks Bartholomew Speaks
.