[/html]The male was growing more concerned as the days wore on. They had been without the pack for months, and the small party was settled in the orchards near Berwick. But it did not cause the russet wolf to grown peaceful, his defenses were constantly aroused and on alert. Hunting was difficult, patrolling was impossible, and the stench of lone wolf was beginning to make him irritable.
Oak loved his mother, and did not resent her choice to live in Berwick. Yet it was her place, her comfort and her new home. Cypress was at ease as well, content to simply be with mother and no one else. Oak was not. He wanted the pack, the community and the stability that came with it. It was not so much the male wanted something different that concerned him it was the idea that he might leave his family to search out a place of his own that caused the red boy to be so uncertain.
He traveled through the familiar lands that lay south of Berwick, and north of his once home. The axe hung at his side, present as he wandered in the hopes of finding an untapped hunting ground. Senses were always kept on edge; nose and ears at the ready as tore bay eyes scanned the landscape. It was not hard to find the scent of another wolf, the further north he traveled the closer he came to two different packs. Though, he caught the scent of someone he had met before.
Instantly he headed in her direction, strides becoming longer and his thoughts less dim and dank. Bambi? He called out into the world, wondering if she was in the next dip of the uneven terrain or around the nearest glen of trees.
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