Sit with me awhile
05-29-2018, 01:16 PM
OOC: Set before the meeting
Kassander sat before the entrance to his den, simply staring outwards into the thicket blankly. Remy had made himself scarce within the den, but Rommel sat a short distance away watching Kassander with a troubled expression that the elderly wolf didn't take note of.
He'd been in so many packs in his life. Ebony, Olympus, Yfir, Ivory Ridge, Crew. He'd thought that this time it would be different. Abaven was the only pack from his childhood that still remained. It had seemed like it would stand the test of time. Now he stood to lose everything again, just as he was settling in and slowly getting to know his pack mates enough to be comfortable around them.
He was troubled. He couldn't leave Abaven. He was getting too old to live on his own in the middle of winter, even with Rommel to help. Rommel was no young cub himself, after all, and it wasn't fair to drag him away from a comfortable home out into the wilds again at his age. He didn't know any other packs well enough to go there directly, either, lest he end up in exactly the same position he was currently finding himself.
No, and he couldn't abandon the pack mates that he'd started to grow so fond of. Some would leave, undoubtedly, and he wished them well. But others? Others wanted to fight. Others needed protecting. Lark had children in the pack. There were yearlings to watch out for. No, for once in his life since Sigmarr had died defending him, Kassander needed to grow up and take responsibility. He needed to stand with them and act like the pack's healer instead of cowering and whinging like a pup. He'd been a king, once.
The gray-muzzled Xanilov finally blew out a deep breath, the air puffing in front of him in an atmosphere that had grown quite cold. Rommel straightened suddenly at the movement, not expecting it after sitting there for hours struggling with his own anxieties. Well, this mysterious "Abraxas" character hadn't yet made him or herself known to the rest of the pack, and Sparrow hadn't chosen to confide in him so if she had met him yet either he didn't know. If she chose to confide in any of them for that matter, Kassander wouldn't have known - he didn't know the dynamics between any of the wolves in this pack yet. He needed to remedy that. Now more than ever those bonds would need to be grown and nurtured. They needed to be stronger as a pack than ever before, or they'd be ripped apart like a warren of rabbits beneath the claws and teeth of hungry ferrets.
Quietly he turned to go down the tunnel to his extensive den system. He might need to expand again... maybe add some hidden tunnels. You could never plan too far ahead these days... Gathering a few bundles of dried herbs, his pestel, and a clay jar (he inspected it critically a moment to be sure it didn't have cracks), he returned to his position outside the den entrance to grind the herbs somewhere less stuffy than his den, which was literally stuffed with dried grasses, pine boughs, feathers, and moss to keep the winter winds at bay.
Kassander sat before the entrance to his den, simply staring outwards into the thicket blankly. Remy had made himself scarce within the den, but Rommel sat a short distance away watching Kassander with a troubled expression that the elderly wolf didn't take note of.
He'd been in so many packs in his life. Ebony, Olympus, Yfir, Ivory Ridge, Crew. He'd thought that this time it would be different. Abaven was the only pack from his childhood that still remained. It had seemed like it would stand the test of time. Now he stood to lose everything again, just as he was settling in and slowly getting to know his pack mates enough to be comfortable around them.
He was troubled. He couldn't leave Abaven. He was getting too old to live on his own in the middle of winter, even with Rommel to help. Rommel was no young cub himself, after all, and it wasn't fair to drag him away from a comfortable home out into the wilds again at his age. He didn't know any other packs well enough to go there directly, either, lest he end up in exactly the same position he was currently finding himself.
No, and he couldn't abandon the pack mates that he'd started to grow so fond of. Some would leave, undoubtedly, and he wished them well. But others? Others wanted to fight. Others needed protecting. Lark had children in the pack. There were yearlings to watch out for. No, for once in his life since Sigmarr had died defending him, Kassander needed to grow up and take responsibility. He needed to stand with them and act like the pack's healer instead of cowering and whinging like a pup. He'd been a king, once.
The gray-muzzled Xanilov finally blew out a deep breath, the air puffing in front of him in an atmosphere that had grown quite cold. Rommel straightened suddenly at the movement, not expecting it after sitting there for hours struggling with his own anxieties. Well, this mysterious "Abraxas" character hadn't yet made him or herself known to the rest of the pack, and Sparrow hadn't chosen to confide in him so if she had met him yet either he didn't know. If she chose to confide in any of them for that matter, Kassander wouldn't have known - he didn't know the dynamics between any of the wolves in this pack yet. He needed to remedy that. Now more than ever those bonds would need to be grown and nurtured. They needed to be stronger as a pack than ever before, or they'd be ripped apart like a warren of rabbits beneath the claws and teeth of hungry ferrets.
Quietly he turned to go down the tunnel to his extensive den system. He might need to expand again... maybe add some hidden tunnels. You could never plan too far ahead these days... Gathering a few bundles of dried herbs, his pestel, and a clay jar (he inspected it critically a moment to be sure it didn't have cracks), he returned to his position outside the den entrance to grind the herbs somewhere less stuffy than his den, which was literally stuffed with dried grasses, pine boughs, feathers, and moss to keep the winter winds at bay.
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