we all have baggage

Chaos sat at the edge of the basin, staring out into the darkening twilight with a brooding air, watching over those of his pack who slept. Were his children there among them? Or were they journeying, or as restlessly awake as he was? He didn't know. Sometimes, it seemed, he didn't really know either of his offspring. He'd been meant to carry on the Saxe name, but did either of them understand the weight of the burden he'd carried?

He sighed, then gave a faint chuckle at his own melodramatic thoughts. If he was so worried about his family name, maybe instead of sitting alone in the dark he should be off charming ladies and making babies to raise. Brooding and moping didn't make offspring, unless he was incredibly mistaken.

He shook his head at himself and snorted, forcing his attention back to scanning the growing darkness for danger.