Abaven had grown quiet, but then again there was an illness going around. He was surprised really, that he hadn't gotten sick in his old age. Buthe always tried to keep himself fit and healthy. He knew bass might be busy, but he sorely missed talking to his oldest friend. He hoped to run into him when he wasn't busy, so for now he simply decided to go on patrol. Blue gaze looked over the borders, the male marking them as he went along. He hoped that something would happen, he was growing bored but that didn't mean he wouldn't do his duties. Maybe when he saw bass, he would ask about a rank up. Perhaps challenge for that to give him something to do as well as support his old friend. Speech,

Patrol was eventless like always and Karabela sighed as she slipped back into the Rustling Thicket. She’d finished moving her den here a few weeks ago and thankfully she had finished before the ground started to harden and freeze. Abaven had been quiet lately. She’d debated about calling together a training session but with the mysterious illness making its way through the pack she decided that it was best to wait. Besides, with winter coming on fast the packs energy was better spent with hunting. Maybe she could call a hunt later.

Slipping through the amber rushes she caught the scent of one of her older packmates. A man named Hansel if she recalled correctly. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to though she knew the older man was a rather quiet soul. As she spied him she called out. “Hey old man! How’s it going? This chill weather isn’t to hard on your joints is it?”

"Speech"