wicked games

His time returning had been spent, remembering. This place was crawling with pups that tortured him only a little on the inside. Cute fluffy balls of fur like the litter he had tried to raise. Things turned out in a weird way, as he trekked near the rapids a scent filled his nose. It was that of a destruction, not Shrike, it must have been another one of Bass' sons because it was one he had no sented before. Alarm struck his heart however, the rapids were a dangerous place if you were not a good swimmer.

As he came upon the boy, he would approach calmly. He was not his father, but he would still worry not only because he was a pup but everyone in Abaven was his family. He had already told Shrike he was like an uncle. So that was what he would be to the children if he could, even if not related by blood. The large forty inch tall wolf stood a few feet away from him. "Enjoying the river?" he asked with a smile, he would not scold the boy. Simply, keep a close eye on him.