[/html]It was cold, blustery in fact for the wind came and went to it’s very own tune. Alder looked out across the pastures that they kept beyond the stables. It was not too cold for the herd to go rummaging through the white crystals and dead grass in the hopes that they may find something edible.
But they all seemed far more content beneath the roof, and beside their filled troughs of hay. Alder couldn’t blame them. He walked down the line of familiar faces, looking at them as they all stood contently. Alder smiled, though felt a loss of energy. He hadn’t been watching over his stead, rather gone through the open lands in the search of faces and food. The Marshal was easy to guilt, and his own mind gave him a heavy dose of it. It had taken him a long time to clean the stalls, manage the feed-stocks as well as groom all the residents. As well as bring the place from looking neglected back to its prim and tidy (as tidy as a stable could be) condition.
He made a promise to them all, as well as himself to hunt the pack lands rather then free territory and to seek friends within the ranks rather then outside them. Though, he couldn’t help but wonder what a particular lone coywolf had come to. Trent had been on his mind since they had parted ways. It had even clouded the visit to Inferni and the meeting of his half brother. What did that matter, when he had filled the gap of that relationship with a new friend? His curiosity drifted between a friendly wondering and a worry. The male had been so tentative when they had met… Alder hoped they would meet again.
A mew came to his ears, causing him to look down. The cat called out again, louder now as he thought that Alder had ignored his first request. The kitten was much larger then when Alder had first brought him to his new home. But it was obvious that he wasn’t full grown yet. Alder scooped him up, and the white and orange hued feline reach up to rub his head against the wolf’s. He had come to understand this ritual, and lifted his higher so that he could rub again his black and tan cheek. Hickory then pawed at his face, and the Marshal scolded him lightly in low-speech before settling him onto his arm and carried him as he looked for the next chore to tackle.