--
He needed to retire, already.
Four years old, and his life had already become a bit too much for him. Two or three years a loner, a few months a pack member. A few weeks, a subleader. A few days, the leader. He wanted to limp himself off a cliff somewhere. Jefferson had never wanted to lead anything, let alone a pack that was actually prospering. The moment he'd been thrown into that subleader position, Phoenix Valley began its brief journey in doubling in size completely, and Deuce's availability had been undeniably limited since Lucifer had reappeared, and a lot of the load had fallen onto him. He'd accepted a number of new faces, scolded a few more, and consoled the former leader to no avail. Jefferson knew he'd "grown up", somehow, even though he was already full grown.
Needless to say, opportunities to frolic away from the pack were especially slim, but he'd manage to sneak his way from the lands and take some time to himself to enjoy the winter scenery and brisk winds--without nagging thoughts or familiar faces he'd rather not think about to bother him. In fact, Jefferson had traveled quite far from "home", the Patriarch limping all the way. He could have shifted into his two-footed form and enabled himself easier travel and quicker speed, but he was well aware of how fast life was moving all of a sudden. He needed that opportunity to slow down and take his time more than anything.
He was not particularly fond of cold weather, just as he was uncomfortable in hot weather. Jefferson preferred autumn, long gone already, or the later months of spring when the earth was beginning to renew himself. For such a pessimistic grump that he was, he didn't much care for the dead-looking trees, though when their branches were coated with ice and the snow was falling, even January could become mildly enjoyable.
What he didn't enjoy about January, however, was seeing children by themselves in the cold, out in the middle of nowhere.
It was particularly warm that day devoid of any wind, thus Jefferson tried to put himself at ease. The Shattered Coast was somewhat far from any of the territories--his pack, of course, being the closest, and this child was not one he recognized. She was... pouting, but for only a moment; seconds later she was on her feet again, romping around through the unsnowed grasses and rocks without any sort of supervision in sight. Somehow she didn't notice him, either, standing at a short distance away and staring one-eyed at the energetic little creature with a somewhat perplexed look on his face. "Hey," he said gruffly, probably too much so. "Where's your parents?"
