There was no doubt about it--Zamael was bored. Bored, and restless, too. He had lost Alarian to Delight--and while he was obviously over the moon for his brother, there was an underlying resentment that festered within him. He had not yet brought up the fact that he was here to bring Alarian and Eris home; he knew this news would not be met with anything less than utter resistance.

It was pointless. It was all fucking pointless, really. And for the first time since arriving here, Zamael started to regret coming. Only in his worse moments, mind. . .but it was a thought that did cross his mind, occasionally. Okay, more often than he would admit.

Today, he decided to go for a walk. Just a little walk to clear his head. Look at some flowers, check out the scenery, chase some birds, or some shit. Whatever made him happy, if only for a little while. Something to get his mind off Alarian, Delight, Eris, home. . . all of it. He set off with itchy paws, first at a trot, then a gallop. He climbed the ridge with an energy he didn't know he had.

It was quite beautiful up here, looking down on everything else. And it had everything you could want--views of forests and plains, ice and water. Even the sea was visible from here; the gray-blue waves tugged at his heart, as if telling him to come closer. He gazed longingly at it for a long time--too long. Contemplating the idea.

Like, what if he just fucking jumped from this ledge, right now? He wondered how long it would take Alarian to notice his absence, being so busy with Delight and the Chancellor's spawn. Once he did, then--how long would it take to search for a body? He could just disappear. Honestly. It would be easy.

He didn't want to die. He didn't even want to stop living. He was just utterly and completely fucking bored.

Her scent caught his attention before her voice, and he had already turned to face her before she spoke. "No shit," he answered tartly--though in truth, he hadn't been aware there was a pack nearby. Where? Down below, on the glacier? But, you know, best to keep up the appearance that he actually knew his shit about the surrounding lands. "Close but not over the border, yet.

"What's your pack's name, again?" Zamael asked, tilting his head in inquiry. She was quite pretty, if one was into that sort of thing. . .women, girls, whatever. Her eyes were brighter than his, an even paler shade of orange that you could probably see coming even in the darkest night. Her smell, and that of the pack layered over it, was completely unfamiliar to him; she, on the other hand, acted like she owned the place, and had for years.

Zamael took a trio of steps back from the ledge in sardonic mollification, his eyes leveled on her as he did so. His ears swiveled as she told him the pack name. "Wow, that's a mouthful," he remarked, mouthing each syllable to himself--and surely getting them out of order. They must be quite new to the glacier; he hadn't scented them before. They seemed quite fierce, if they were getting in a tizzy over him sightseeing from all the way up here.

He tilted his head gently toward Broken Boulder. "Bracken Sanctuary," he explained, looking back at her. "We're your neighbors to the north. My brother runs the place--I'm Zamael." He stopped just short of extending her an invitation--if she wanted to come visit, she could make that decision herself. He wasn't really in the business of giving tight-ass scouts a tour around his home.

His eyes creased in a grimace. "Stuck in the shadows of our brethren, huh?" he drawled, glancing over at her. "Ah, well. I love the kid--no hard feelings. I'm sure none on your end, either." She looked like one of those tight-ass, perma-loyal wolves with no life but anal-retentive border patrols. . .hence, why she was harassing him so far from her home.

"Just exploring," Zamael explained, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Like I said, didn't know anyone lived down there. I didn't take this way, coming up." It was beautiful, really. They were a lucky bunch of wolves, living down there. He wondered whether the rest of the pack was as prickly as this young woman, or if there were some redeemable qualities to this bunch he hadn't yet seen.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Apparently miss stick-up-her-ass couldn't take a joke, either. He snorted, shaking his head slightly before looking back out toward the sprawling expanse of land. It was a lot to handle for just one pack; he wondered how they had come to settle it so soon. Were there, like, twenty of them?

"That's nice," Zamael said absently, his mind on a thousand other things. Knowing this for his pervasive sense of ennui, he looked at her once more, shrugging. "Well, good to meet you, uh, Takiyok?" His voice rose slightly in uncertain query; he probably completely butchered the name. "I gotta get going. Promise I won't stand too close to your border again."

With a fleeting smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he departed, headed down the mountain and elsewhere. There had to be actual fun wolves out here, somewhere. Evidently, they weren't to be found on the glacier.