Mists of Gold (meeting)

Amos had been stuck in his own head for far too long, which was beginning to irritate him. He'd taken to sticking to himself for a long time, going for runs, hunting for whatever he could catch and drag back alone and generally muddling about in his own messy thoughts while still trying his best to be productive as often as possible. Really what he needed was to get out there and do some fighting, and porbably find a few sparring partners within the pack. Mostly he just needed to get his shit together.

Only a moment after the thought ran through his mind did he hear the call from the moor. Lifting his chin from his paws, Amos sighed and moved to stand up from the spot outside his den where he'd been laying. It was one of several he frequented since he didn't seem to feel especially attatched to any one spot at the moment. Tri-colored eyes scanned the horizon as he made it way to answer the call.

Arriving at the stone circle, Amos entered and sat down wordlessly, a faint shadow of the normally bright smile just barely on his lips. It brightened just a bit when he took note of the little balls of fuzz assembled near Gwenevere.