Maybe It Wasn't An Accident

There was only one real solution to the problem he found himself having. His parents were dead, his sister and he had been separated again... where was a lonely male to go? A pack. He could not return to the one where his brother and sister, gods willing, still ruled. His expression was solemn, focused on his past. He would breathe in, walking along a path in the east. His silver and gray coat was ruffled by the summer breeze -- enough to make the weather bearable. Not as bad as it might be in the south, though certainly one could feel that summer was under way. He would breathe in, his tail swishing back and forth in a slow manner -- though mostly because he was in thought.

Wherever Laria had ended up he hoped she was well. But Cypress had decided he was tired of feeling alone. He would remain here in Alacritia, in the land of his birth. He had thought about joining the pack that had claimed his birthland -- Fontamo Bay -- but then decided against it. It would remind him too much of his family... yet he could not completely abandon the east. So when he came along here, along the territory of another pack, he would begin poking along the borders, peering in, trying to see what scents he could catch. Perhaps... something could come of this?