Broken Boulder in all the possibilities

After he had spoken to Delight and Lanawyn about the bear, he reluctantly made his way to the Broken Boulder at the center of the territory. The coast was far from here, but he worried about the brazenness of the attack. Did the bear simply seek to inhabit the territory, or was something darker behind it? A hatred for wolves— for that particular pack? Would it come after the member they housed?
Alarian couldn't answer these questions, but he knew the pack deserved to know. While the coast was a fair distance, it was not so far they were unreachable. It was not so far that wandering that direction was entirely safe. He paced for several moments, then stopped and tilted his muzzle skyward, calling for the entire pack. The Governor's message was clear; this could not be ignored.

vilkas walks a half-hearted patrol of the sanctuary's borders. he tells himself he is familiarizing himself with their perimeters but he knows the territoriality is far too ingrained in him to be anything other than it is. they have an open border policy and if he smells scents wandering into the pack lands that do not belong there is nothing he can do unless they are being aggressive or uncivil. idly, he wonders if stealing from their food caches falls in one of those two categories or not. he doesn't have enough faith in others to believe that one day the open border policy wouldn't be throughly taken advantage of. it's a surprise that it hasn't yet but the sanctuary has the benefit of being secluded to the north ...for the moment.

as the firebrand makes a mental list of questions regarding the murky areas of his assumed role as enforcer — for he has no other word to to ensure that anyone visiting their lands keeps themselves in line and guardian strikes him as a bit moot; alarian's summons rise into the air. his questions would have to wait for there is a underlining urgency to the howl that causes the wispy hairs at the nape of his neck to bristle with unease.

vilkas is not the first to arrive he sees. his gaze touches first to alarian then to the woman perched at his side, the silver and black colored man — and moves to a thick, ink clad male where his gaze lingers. the only reason the firebrand's gaze subtly lingers for a few seconds longer before he diverts it is because the familiar form of lily is seated beside the inky stranger. it takes all of the firebrand's self control to keep the swell of jealousy that rises within his breast tempered even as it threatens to curl his upper lip back and snap. the internal war is taxing as vilkas forcibly reminds himself that lily isn't his and that there's no right to feel that want to chase the other man away from her. but the raptorial man is fueled and driven by instinct and instinct tells him that right doesn't matter.

an ear twitches but he keeps himself composed. somehow. the struggle is real, however; very, very real. the firebrand moves towards lily, however; and assumes a position at her unclaimed side, offering her a gentle nudge of greeting as he favors silence. he does not seat himself — there's far too much tension thrumming through his body for that ( both caused by the irrational jealousy that still burns through him and swells heavily like a pool of lava in his chest and the underlining urgency in the governor's call ). instead, he turns an expectant gaze to their leader waiting for the meeting to begin.

It was hard to miss the call and even harder to miss all the scents that crowded his nose. Jaws parted and tongue hung lazily out of his mouth as he made his way to the scene. Ulf had never been apart of big events like this but the call had made it clear enough that he should attend.

A sense of anxiety briefly gripped him seeing so many feral creatures. Ulf tried to brush the feeling off (with little success) as he decided to linger in the back of the gathering away from most of them. His pale gaze settled on only Alarian.