Firefly Ravine rusted

Buchanan did not stray too far from the Keep's borders. Though he ventured into the ravine bordering the Keep he kept a distance short enough that he was within howling distance. He did not expect that Stark nor Banner as she, too, was now his leader, would have the need to call for him; regardless he did not venture too far. His days since his acceptance were filled with hunting for the caches, hunting so he could add to Banner's feather collection, and though he was more adept at fighting then he was the diplomatic part of being a guardian he took his share of running patrols. Though the whole “being apart of a pack” without a purpose other than his own was indeed a strange one he liked it. Feather hunting for Banner, hunting for the pack, and knowing that he was doing his part in protecting and fortifying their borders — it gave him purpose all it's own. Not any kind he was used to but it was ...nice. Settling with the little picket fence and the whole nine yards ...well minus the family part of the saying, at any rate.

Still, it was not a place that Buchanan thought he would have ever reached. Though, he owed a lot (if not most) of the credit to Banner. His acceptance into Marauder's Keep was largely her doing. Gaze of liquid mercury assessed the territory around him as his salmon pink tongue swept across his jowls once. The ravine itself was a deep gorge, and somewhere he could hear a large body of water moving rapidly through it's bed and earthen walls. Yet, it was not anything that gave cause for Buchanan to investigate. He was not thirsty nor did he particularly fancy a swim that would no doubt be treacherous if the water was moving as fast as it sounded like it was. Instead, he was preoccupied with the flora and fauna that the ravine appeared to be teeming with, the sing-song chirps of numerous insects and the croak of amphibians — frog or toad he couldn't truly tell the difference — like some kind of strange but not unpleasant symphony, almost (but not quite) as if it were orchestrated.

Though his gaze lowered periodically to scan his surroundings, his ears attentive atop his skull, his shoulders tense and movements controlled and militaristic, he was looking for some kind of pretty songbird he might be able to present to Banner for her feather collection.