They had come, twice or more now, and blood had been shed. Gabriel had done everything he could to maintain the borders, and maintain diligence, but his shoulders were weary and his resolve weakening, however slightly. Things seemed like they were going nowhere—Haku was wearing them down slowly, even though Inferni had more then enough to rush in and destroy Dahlia in one fell swoop. Even though this thought had indeed crossed the Aquila’s mind, and crossed it more than once, he was unwilling to demand such a thing. Anselm and a large portion of his clan had made their point in not wishing to risk open combat. It sickened Gabriel, in his war eagle mentality, that such a thing belonged to his clan.
Each day he grew more frustrated, and there was no peace in Inferni. So he had gone, traveling without a destination in mind, following the old highway south. He swung wide of Dahlia de Mai and cut through the city, sleeping there overnight. While the city was cold, he dug himself out in an old army/navy surplus store, taking the morning to look for anything of use. He did manage to find a secondary grenade bag, and filled it with a few odds and ends (namely, small first aid kids and two knives). He managed to fix it to his back like a dog pack, a task that took an insane amount of time without thumbs, but once sorted out it was not entirely uncomfortable. That done, he continued on his way, skirting Cour Des Miracles with the same sort of doubt he carried to all unknown wolf packs. Even if they considered themselves mongrels, or dogs, to him they were wolves, and would be until proven otherwise.
By the time he reached Crimson Dreams, it was well past noon. He did not call for her, and opted instead to stalk the borders as he might were he unwelcomed. Certainly, a large part of him believed he was. It was only when her voice called, from beyond the border he would not cross, that he stopped and followed it. A few long moments passed before he let out a bark, announcing his presence, and then spotted her amongst the dappled light. His tail, held high, wagged in greeting as he approached, dressed like the military dog he was. “Anu,” he greeted, though slowed as the scented border (as strong and visible as a stone wall) crossed his path.
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