Buchanan had spent most of the day at the borders of the Keep that was flush with Emberflame Ridge, tracking a small tribe of mountain goats. There were about four females and three young ones, with a horned male that lingered far enough away to disassociate with the tribe but close enough for Buchanan to assume that he was either it's protector or he'd sired children to the group of females. One of the females had given off the distinct scent that she was expecting though the assassin had stayed far back enough that he could not pinpoint which. His intent had not been to startle or chase them from their position close to the Keep's borders, and when they climbed up the rocky face of the Ridge, the dark wraith had followed, maintaining his distance to determine their grazing patterns. He'd stuck close even as the sun had began it's initial descent into the horizon, hoping to follow them to their preferred grounds for bunking down for the night but abandoned it when it threatened to take him deeper into the Ridge's territory. He'd stayed out later than he had intended, anyway.

He didn't want to keep @Banner waiting, after all; that wasn't to say that she was just waiting for him, surely she was still preoccupied with her Beta duties but Buchanan liked the idea of spoiling her with dinner and a kiss. Despite that they'd been mates for a little over a week now he was still filled with a breathless wonder and giddy excitement when he thought about; followed by a wave of warmth and utter contentment when he thought about Banner, an automatic smile spreading across his lips as he made his way back into Marauder's territory. It was a magical feeling, something that he felt to the very marrow of his bones.

If Buchanan had to describe the word love what he felt was exactly what he would have said, though his simplistic way of analyzing his feelings towards Banner didn't feel adequate enough. There were no words and the dark wraith was content to not try to analyze them to death. He loved her: it was that simple, and he was lucky enough to get to spend the rest of his life with her. It was with a goofy smile on his muzzle that he (somewhat distractedly) pursued a relatively fresh rabbit scent with the intent of surprising Banner with it.

The rabbit ended up being a false lead. Buchanan had tracked it all the way to it's burrow, sniffing eagerly at the tiny opening only to realize that the pungent scent of tangy, sharp metallic blood hung in the air and followed the small trail left to a partially picked apart carcass: the work of a hawk or crows, perhaps even a buzzard. A small snarl of frustration left the dark wraith as he turned away from the corpse, letting it for the scavengers to finish off. He wasn't going to give that to Banner. He would have to improvise and hopefully find something else to bring her. Except that plan didn't work out too well either, for Buchanan caught his mate's scent heading towards the borders, heavy with her brother's own. So he returned. He had noted Stark's absence for the past few days but didn't even think to question it. Too much of the subjugate lived within Buchanan and the subservient omega (in his mind anyway) didn't dare question his superiors. In a world of Alpha's Buchanan knew and generally accepted that he would always be an Omega. The Officer had ensured it, and enforced it even in his death (as terrifying as that was).

The long legged assassin found Banner soon enough, his pace slowing as his mercurial gaze swept over her small form, awestruck by her beauty, and overcome with the warmth that spread from his chest all through his body. A low noise of content bubbled within Buchanan's chest, threatening to spill from his lips, except the hyper-vigilant wraith noticed that her actions seemed ...distracted. His posture shifted and tensed, docked tail flicking as he inhaled the scents around them, him still lingering in the shadows a silent sentry, alert for any danger. Something was wrong? If not wrong then off. Something was definitely off. It was incredible how quickly he had grown attuned to Banner's body language in a similiar way to how he'd been attuned to The Officer's own. It was only when he was sure that there was no threat outside the borders lurking that he made his presence known, lest she noticed him beforehand. “Banner,” He called out to her, merging out of the shadows, though he was still tense, still very much alert in case any danger presented itself.

“What has happened?” Buchanan asked, already riding the assumption train that something had happened. His first thought was that it was Stark — that something had befallen the Alpha. His second thought was that perhaps she'd had another anger episode. “Are you alright?” He asked her quietly, a few beats later, following his second consideration, his concern and worry for her unbidden as it made it's presence known upon his face in the soft furrow of his brow.

The furrow of his brow only deepened when Banner spoke his name, and then seconds later was rushing towards him. Despite the feeling of severity his docked tail gave a few wags of happiness when he felt her bury her face against his chest. The dark wraith ducked his head to give her a few affectionate kisses in return to the affection she lavished him with. It was almost enough to make him forget that mere moments ago her body language had caused him alarm. Eventually, Banner had begun her explanation starting off with Stark's absence, which had not fallen beneath the assassin's notice but it had been easily brushed off by Buchanan as another searching sweep for one of the missing Ostregas. Banner's next words, however, proved that his assumption was not the case. She told him that her brother — his brother-in-law — had returned with Octavia, the missing Alpha female. Would it not have been for her previous body language and the way in which she spoke, stuttering briefly over her words Buchanan would have remarked that it wasn't bad news. Buchanan held his silence, allowing her to continue on with her explanation that Stark and Octavia had been involved.

And then came what Banner had been leading up to the whole time: Octavia was dead. His mate's voice had taken a hollow tone and for a second Buchanan held his breath. Unsure of how he was supposed to feel. He had not known Octavia and thus he could not mourn her in the same way that the others would no doubt mourn. Perhaps he would have felt nothing at all if not for Banner's inclusion that Stark and Octavia had been involved. Buchanan put it into a perspective that he could understand. His throat tightened and he swallowed against the well of emotion felt for Stark and no doubt the agony he was suffering from. Buchanan couldn't imagine ever losing Banner, but when he did (as unimaginative he was) the mere idea was enough to devastate him, enough to make it feel like someone had punched through his rib-cage and was crushing his heart. Was that was Stark felt?

“I can only imagine how devastating and heart breaking that is,” And selfishly, Buchanan hoped that he never had to find out. “I'm sorry, Banner,” He breathed against her, pressing closer to her. He wanted to offer to help but he wasn't sure how he could and so, for the moment, held his silence.

Though perhaps it was not the situation in which to allow such a gesture to form upon his lips, Buchanan found himself smiling as her gratitude rounded off with a soft, affectionate growl, though his smile became a rueful thing when it became apparent to him that Banner's thoughts were following closely in his own moments before. Even the thought was unbearable to him, so much so that he didn't want to dare linger upon it. “I know,” He murmured thickly, heavily, communicating that he knew exactly how she felt because he felt it too. Ironically, despite his past laden heavy with blood and death as it was, death was not something he often thought of. Least of all his own despite that he'd known each target could have been his end. The Officer could have won. It had been an easy possibility to accept but that was before. Before Banner. Before he had something to live for.

“It'll probably be hard for him,” Buchanan murmured in quiet contemplation, in regards to her worry about her brother. But beyond the obvious Buchanan could offer no words. He really didn't know Stark well enough to feel comfortable saying that time would heal his wound. Would time heal his if something were to befall Banner? No. He already knew the answer to it. “I don't want to think about what would happen to me if you —” Buchanan couldn't finish it. Didn't want to finish it. The thoughts were morbid and though it was put into perspective for him by the recent death of the Keep's former Alpha Female he knew he'd much rather focusing on living.

He drew in a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “I love you, Banner.” It was probably the most inopportune time to tell her, but it was something he wanted her to know, something she definitely deserved to know.

A contented rumble vibrated in his chest, rising to his throat though it did not ever breach his lips. He enjoyed these embraces with Banner: so much more than he'd ever thought he would. He did not enjoy having his personal space breached and that was no secret but her touch was easily one of the most wonderful things to him. Granted, Banner herself was the best thing to happen to him. Hearing her murmur that she loved him too caused Buchanan grin, his docked stump of a tail wagging unimpressive in his delight at hearing the sentiment returned. It made his heart pound a little heavier in his chest, his breath to catch. She loved him too. She loved him too.

His train of thought: contemplating that over and over while assessing how it made him feel so buoyant, so warm was broken when she thanked him. For a moment Buchanan considered asking her what for but refrained. He didn't want to seem ungracious by questioning her every time she thanked him, so he accepted it with another kiss aimed at her cheek. Buchanan did duck his head though when she asked him if he knew he was wonderful. Was he? He knew there were plenty of wolves out there that would readily dispute her that. Perhaps even Buchanan himself. Yet, it didn't matter what other wolves thought of him. He was hard enough on himself: his toughest critic and in all honesty it was only Banner's opinion Buchanan found himself caring about. Her's was the only one that mattered, besides his own.

“No,” He mumbled into her fur, his tone taking on a modest, perhaps even chagrined tone. Buchanan wasn't sure what to do with compliments. Perhaps it was because of his submissive nature, or perhaps it was just because The Officer had found insults more effective than compliments but Buchanan didn't take compliments well. “but I've got you to remind and inspire me.” And she did inspire him. Everyday. Buchanan wanted to be everything he thought she deserved in a husband he put in effort that without her he knew he would have never applied. Without her he would not have gotten as far as he had. Without Banner, Buchanan would still be the lost assassin looking to replace his scurrilous overlord. “You're the best thing to ever happen to me, moya lyubov' and I plan to remind you of it every day for the rest of ever.” because rest of my life probably would sound a little too insensitive given recent happenings.

It had been easy to allow himself to be wrapped up in the love he felt for Banner, in the love she expressed to him so that he almost forgot that she'd delivered him any grim news at all. Until, her expression became one of sadness and she expressed her worry for Stark. “I know you do,” Buchanan assured her in a low murmur. He would expect nothing less. Having no siblings of his own he could not claim to understand the bond that the brother and sister shared but it was apart of Banner. It was one of the many things that made her...her. And he loved it about her. Yet, this whole “family” thing was still out of Buchanan's league and he wasn't sure he had the right words of encouragement. Not when he was still adjusting to this new life as a whole. He had no experience with this sort of thing. The only great loss he'd ever endured was The Officer and it had been of his own choice. Buchanan had mourned his master but in an entirely different way then Stark mourned Octavia or the way anyone mourned family, probably.

“You know Stark better than anyone,” Buchanan paused, searching for words that he wasn't even sure would be comforting to her, nor reassuring. Nor encouraging as he would mean them to be. “but I think — I think he's gonna be ok, you know? He's got you. He's got Tam. He's got us — all of us at the Keep. Maybe it's too forward to speak for them but we're here for him. We'll support him.” Maybe he should have only spoken for himself but if they didn't believe in Stark, if they wouldn't return all that he did for the others wouldn't have stayed when he took over. “Subordinates lean on their leaders but sometimes leaders need to lean on their subordinates.” The Officer had...once. Delusional with fever, of course, but it was a few fevered hours of delusional kindness that Buchanan couldn't forget.

“I'm sorry, I'm bad at this,” He chuckled at his own failings, giving his head a bashful shake. It was probably a good idea to stop trying to help when he had no idea what he was doing. “I think ...just do what you need to, be there for him.”

A soft, contemplative chuckle left Buchanan's lips and his head ducked, bashful. He didn't exactly agree with her but he supposed as long as his words made sense and helped her then they were serving their purpose. His interaction with others was extremely limited and he was definitely just running off of his own opinions on things, unsure if they would be “right” (which always would be subjective) or not. That was all he could do: offer her his perspective and opinions. When Banner had shuffled back Buchanan left her put the space between them, taking in her facial expressions when she spoke, his ears cupping forth as a physical display of attentiveness. Her inquiry surprised the dark wraith and his ears slid back to rest at half mast atop his skull. “Of course I will,” He murmured reassuringly. Part of him didn't necessarily want to intrude on what was a private matter for Stark ...but they were family now and wasn't offering support (as he'd just pointed out) apart of being a family. He stepped nearer to her and gestured for her to lead the way, following closely and diligently beside her as she led the way to Stark.