The Sunspire shoot me an email

*grabs*

Still nothing. No sign of Ferdie, no sign of the cougar, nothing. While the rest of the pack still seemed to be diligently on the lookout for the man, Summer had quietly pronounced him dead the night before, sitting at the based of the willow that dotted the edge of the Oasis. It had been a lonely funeral, and really not much of a funeral at all except for the meaning the young Ostrega had come up with as he took the willow branch and dropped it into the waters of the stream that danced past below the bows. No words were spoken, no howl shared, for he knew well that he may well have been the only one who was ready to let go. But that was his prerogative--letting go was second nature to the boy who was left behind.

So that day as Summer DeMonte-Ostrega wandered the borders, it was not for any sign of the former alpha that he was searching. No, his intent was only to mark them where needed and to make sure the only creatures to cross it were those of no consequence. When the call went out, he was surprised to find that he was fairly nearby to the source. Only a few minutes passed before he was approaching the caller with careful pawsteps, curiosity of the unexpectedness of finding one so young to be the one who owned the voice.

"Hello," Summer said gently, the usual cautioned persona he wore at approaching strangers dropped in response to her being one, young like he (though younger still), and two, she was a she. The soft spot he had for females who seemed troubled or possibly in some sort of turmoil or predicament where they seemed to need protection of the physical or emotional sort was not yet realized by Summer, but was a truth of his character nonetheless.

</style>