Takeji wasn't sad to see the cold, dreary season go. Strange happenings and unsettling nights along with a lean winter had made the already wary young male even more on edge than usual. At night he'd struggled to sleep soundly and during the day he'd struggled to work effectively, which turned those one-off problems into an ouroboros of misery. But now, laying in a patch of faintly warm sunlight beneath the budding oak branches with spring wildflowers in bloom between his paws he could almost believe things were turning around again. In fact, he could almost lay down for a nap... Instead he surged to his feet. This was no time to be slacking, for all he knew this was just a lull and he'd wake up to a foot of snow tomorrow. He had to make the most of this while it was there to be taken advantage of. Perhaps he could go through some of the storage caches and check for mold and rot, inventory what was in good condition and what ought to be used sooner than later. Perhaps he could check in with Fuji and see if any herbs needed gathering now that there were finally signs of new growth. Whatever he ended up doing, napping in the sun like a pile of stones was not on the agenda, no matter how nice it would be. Keji allowed himself one over the shoulder look at the sunny spot of earth before turning back to the task at hand, whatever it ended up being. "Talk" "Listen" Think

There was a time and a place for everything. His loyalty to the bamboo lured him from the northern reaches of Boreas back home. While he wished to stay, mingle with the others, learn and absorb all that he could, there was that incessant feeling beneath his skin that he needed to return. Check on the pack, check in with Hattori, be informed. For safety and ease of transport, he moved through the Oaks to avoid the barren wasteland of the Dragon's Blood trees.

The familiarity of the trees was comforting. Soft, spongy moss beneath his paws. Rotting logs easily leapt over. A quiet burble of a nearby stream as young gooselings squawked and honked as they learned to swim. Rodents, big and small, scurried along the shadows, beady eyes peering at him. At his side, his Akita kept paced and in the sky, his raven soared ahead. More eyes meant more visibility. Nothing got passed him. Not even the movement of his adopted brother, Takeji. The boy was young, inexperienced. Perhaps he would want a lesson?

Changing his path without a second thought, Akito approached on swift, agile paws. Slowing as he neared, maintaining his clouded grey gaze upon the koi-patterned wolf. "Takeji," he rumbled in greeting, allowing his expression to speak for itself. The question that lay beneath the name.

"speech"