The woods that Cried

Something about this yearling was a bit interesting. More so that Eraithus felt like he was drawn to her in some way - but it didn't matter he had no business with royalty of the largest pack in the land. Nor did he desire to be claimed by such a thing. He was far too stubborn in his ways, he was too nice he hated harming others unless it involved a consenual fight in order to ease his addiction to blood. His first time drinking it had been the last he ever decided to provoke someone who was already on death's door. "I appreciate that Banshee. I'm sorry for the trouble." he grinned as he said this and then she answered his question. Where she belonged, an interesting note.

She asked if he enjoyed being a rogue though. "I can't say I entirely, 'enjoy' it. But it beats being told what to do by someone. And how to live my life." he answered as he looked around. "I was a prince of a pack back at home, my father had a brood of my mother his husband and another wife. Me and my siblings were sent on a journey to spread the Zanthus gene's as far as we could. Got caught up in a storm and ended up here. Not many packs would be very accepting of my promiscious nature and want to take on more than one mate." not to mention it was harder to keep secrets from those who believed they were in charge of you.