Reyson stood at the border, eyes alight, body alert. He paced the pack land borders, leaving his scent in their red sand. It was obsessive, all consuming. He was constantly at the borders, eyes never wavering, body wound tight like string.

He would leave on forays, he hadn't quite quenched the spirit of the wanderer he had gathered in his time on his own, but he only ever went with a few hours of the pack lands at most a day. And it was always somewhere to train his body, and quiet his soul.

He was not as full of tumultuous feelings and thoughts as he had been, but he was definitely no longer what he was. The last battle it had changed him and he needed to realize that, and do something about it, before he turned into a shell of his former self, or worse turn into a absolute dick.

the white raven perched upon the edge a cliff-within-cliff.

it watched the wolf.

There was somethign to be said for the creatures of light and dark. One such caught his eye and Reyson eyed the white raven with ice blue eyes.

There was a sacredness to those of all white, he knew this. And the knowledge that often looked through such creatures eyes. Well. It unnerved him.

it watched the wolf.

in the wolf, it saw an opportunity.

the bird flapped its great wings, lifting up.

then gathered them to sharply drop.

with great knowledge of own skill and strength, it deftly plummeted towards the wolf's head. where their eyes could meet, it unfurled its wingspan, sending forth a blow of wind and single screeched word of warning.

"WEST!"

and then the great white bird flapped its wings, and ascended upwards, past the redsone walls.