What we make of it

Chaos loped along the pack border with a casual air that contradicted the deep thoughts within. A lot of turmoil had caused rifts between members of his own family lately, between Rhyme and Rhythms return, the slave raid, Rhymes litters and his subsequent removal from the family name, and most lately Ash's relationship - of you could call it that- with the Destruction girl. That upheaval was being reflected in Legion, he felt, but he wasn't sure he was yet in a place emotionally to deal with that. He also, however, wasn't sure he could afford to wait, either.


He mentally gnawed at the problems like a bone, worrying and fretting. He had to laugh at himself though. Who would have thought he would ever grow into the kind of wolf who would even care about his own problems, let alone everyone else's? But he did, and it felt at times like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And the worst part was, he had no one to share the problems with, someone he could talk things over with, bounce ideas at, vent to. Valentine was his hero but the old man had more than enough of his own problems to deal with without Chaos adding to it.


He recognized absently that his path had taken him across the border while he had worried, into the orchard that had once also been part of his family's lands. He didn't correct his path, though, instead continuing to wander further into the fruit filled orchard.