The strength of the pack

The male had been sleeping more deeply lately. There wasn't as much stress to be able to wake at the drop of a pin to serve his master, and he could rest for longer periods of time. This, of course, meant he could heal. Miss Shaye was beginning to get some more shine in his dark fur, bringing out the intricacies of his markings. So, when he heard her bidding farewell to her children, he found himself rousing more slowly. His leg was stiff and painful when he tried to move it. Rolling onto his right flank, the male began the process of stretching the aching muscles. First his toes, curling and uncurling them. Flexing the muscles of his ankle, drawing his paw up, down, and up again. Getting his knee to loosen up took the longest, with the extensive damage to his thigh muscles. He spent most of the stretch working it out.

Once he was ready to rise, he was fully awake. Hungry, too. A pair of howls, woven together in a sonorous song, summoned the waif. That would have to wait. He slunk out of the den, head low and auds close to his skull. The woman who was watching Miss Shaye's little ones, they were saying it was his mother. In between shifts of caring for the pups while Miss Shaye was out and about, they'd had a few chances to talk. Nothing in depth yet, though. He yearned to learn the truth for himself, and get to know her. He said nothing to her as he slunk out of the den, following after Miss Shaye's call.

By the time he arrived, there was already someone there. She had been at the birth as well, helping miss Vail. He had no clue who she was, but Miss Shaye seemed to know her well. He lifted one corner of his mouth in a half smile towards the leaders as he settled himself on his lean haunches near the edge of the clearing. He still wasn't ready to be in the thick of the group yet, it was too overwhelming. Instead, he would wait on the outskirts and listen to what the leaders had to say.