Blackfeather Woods blood ran cold

The time in which they’d needed to wait was not long. The scent came first, followed by the thundering of paws against the cold ground, before the beast finally made an appearance. Immediately, Xan’s fur bristled and his eyes narrowed, blunt claws digging into the ground as he braced for impact—but it never came. Instead, the brute went past him, aiming for the injured child instead. He witnessed the smaller boy being shoved backwards, and was momentarily relieved that he was not the one at the receiving end of the wrecking ball this time around. Still, the feeling only lasted for a short amount of time, before it was chased away by his usual bit of irritation. The Inuit’s ears perked up as he heard what both parties had to say, but remained near the lion child. His eyes were glued to the grey man, narrowed and attentive. He wasn’t about to be rammed into again, he’d make sure of that.
 
“Whatever pack he was taken to sucks,” Xan stated, having to add to what was being said. “Leo listens, he’ll guard the woods.” He glanced over at his companion, though the look was quick. The other boy wanted to learn how to fight, to defend himself, so of course he’d do well to fend intruders off from Blackfeather. Not currently, perhaps, because who would take a kid seriously in that type of situation, but the future was always closer than one believed it to be. Even if, at some point, he decided to leave the woods, it wouldn’t matter. He’d have served his time fighting for the darkness, and that was all Alexander believed to matter. “He could probably tell you about wherever he was at before, too,” he added, looking over at Leo as he spoke. “Right?” In the albino’s mind, it didn’t seem logical to protect a place you hated. Even if the younger’s siblings were still there, Xan didn’t think that would be enough to keep him quiet. He’d chosen to leave them, after all, so nothing was holding him back.