Days drifted by, white, lazy clouds creeping across the sky and becoming hidden in the dark, only noticeable by the absence of the stars. The sun rose and fell, dipping toward the horizon like a lark on wings of crimson and ascending as a phoenix, bright and golden. Raindrops fell like tears, caressing leaves as tenderly as they would a fair cheek before being brushed away by the warmth of the sun. Life lingered but time passed with a resolute sort of determination which seemed to the bearlike creature like some form of spite, taunting him. The days of youth still clung about him like burrs fastening themselves deep inside his coarse coat while his heart had aged so much, a leaf dried and wrinkled, prepared to fall from its branch. Time passed but it did so slowly, having little physical effect on the shadowy stranger, but aging his spirit considerably until it seemed to have been borne into antiquity.

There was nothing he wanted more than a reason for being, but he knew the only way to find this would be to submit himself to society once again, and risk losing life and love as he had before. His heart felt heavy and struggled against this reasoning, but only faintly. It did not feel as though it had the strength to hold him back and so he kept moving forward, moving onward to find a place where he could settle in. Nothing meant much to him- he would join a pack wherever he could and attempt to find some sort of foundation there. If he was put to work, he supposed, he would want for nothing. He would have others for company, something that despite himself, he longed for. It would be much better than traveling alone, this much he knew.

Thus, not knowing anything about the pack, he'd tracked the scent of a few wolves to his destination- an unkempt wilderness which bore the scent marks of a pack. The worst that could happen, he decided, would be that he would be turned away- a rejection he could take, given that it would be dealt by strangers. If they decided to put him out of his misery, then that would be a death he could accept. He had no one to live for other than himself, and presently, he was hardly enamoured with himself. He lowered his head to give the borders a brief sniff before he sat down, thick shoulders hunched slightly as he stretched before relaxing them and waiting for someone to come around.

Lawless allowed his eyelids to droop slightly, not closing his eyes completely but allowing them to rest so that he did not have to squint against the streams of light which pierced down through the trees. In doing so, he concentrated instead on his other senses and found that the world came alive with a greater strength when he relied on his sense of hearing and smell. The world became softer, gentler when he did not have to stare at it all, when the hushed whisper of trees folding leaves together like worried hands became a lullaby, and the smell of moss blended with that of earth. The scent of the pack's borders, he noticed, became stronger and stronger the longer he stayed there; and thus he was not surprised when he heard the approach of another wolf, announcing that whoever it was that had decided to come toward him must have been an integral part of the pack.

Yes, her scent was that which accented the borders and he looked at her for a moment when she came into sight, a lady with long, trim legs and a coat of solid brown, the shade of cedar bark though darker in places. He caught the glint of silver, the way one might see a stream in the distance, in her eyes before he looked away purposefully, rising to his feet but with his head lowered to show respect and tail hanging limply between his ankles. To her he offered this humble show of deference in response to the way she smelled, and the way the borders smelled of her. He'd struck this pose only moments before she'd lifted her head, and though it wasn't needed, as he'd already been informed by her scent of who she was, he was glad to see her hold her title with pride nonetheless.

"You might," He answered with a calm voice and a solemn bob of his head."My name is Lawless Redleaf-DiSarinno, and I am looking for a pack to join." He said.

While the female's demeanour shifted almost completely when she heard mention of his name, it did not surprise him when she confessed that they had to be related. For Lawless, this wasn't news- he was already aware that he came from a line of wolves which stretched and branched out in every which way. Rather than introducing herself, she stated the name of her parents, thereby allowing him to see the connection between them- through her mother and his father.

"Nice to meet you, Athena and Chehalis, litter number two." He said, a small smile cracking on his features. The near impossibility of the situation had tweaked his ear and had put him in a better mood. He wondered if she knew how close she'd come to not existing- and how odd it was that they would be related anyway. But he knew all too well that matters of the heart could be fleeting and condemning.

He was reminded, by this thought, that his branch of the family had ended with him. He was reminded of his failed mateship, of the absence of children which had been part of the reason she'd left. He briefly saw her then- a lively and bright young thing, with a butter-cream pelt and long-lashed brown eyes, eyes which had once looked upon him with girlish charm, but the next moment, he saw a flash of boredom and indifference and then those cherished brown eyes were gone.

"My father was Aether, and my mother was Mo." He said quietly, knowing that she would inquire sooner or later where he'd acquired his surname. He was then welcomed quickly into the pack, and he thanked her with a quiet bob of his head yet again. Something intrigued him about the way she spoke, almost hesitantly, about the wolf she ran the pack with, and a quick look was given to the female to read her expression. He knew the look- she was trying not to show that little smile that meant that her friend was something more than a friend. "Uhuh," He said quietly. "A friend. Who isn't really your friend," He said, tone prompting her for an answer. He might not have been quite so bold with any other alpha- but given that she was both younger and a relative- and of high spirits- he felt more comfortable giving her a tiny poke in the ribs. Before she could interject, he bobbed his head once more."Mum's the word." He said, as an indication that he would say nothing of this to her...Friend.

He listened while she sorted their relationship out, finding amusement in the fact that he was her nephew- despite being much older than she. But the fact of the matter was that her mother had likely still been having pups even when her son, Aether, was doing the same. He wondered if Katrina would have felt uncomfortable knowing that she could have potentially had great-nieces or great-nephews who were the same age as she. They would have been about her age, he had children with his ex-mate. And so in two ways, she was his superior, despite being much younger in age- she was his aunt, someone who was, in general, meant to be older than any nieces or nephews and she was his alpha as well. Quite the accomplishment for someone so young.

But she seemed bright and ambitious and while her complicated relationship with the alpha male was yet another sign of her youth, he took this to mean simply that the pack was relatively new. She was too young to know how to properly fight someone and if she hadn't become the alpha female by becoming the alpha male's mate, then he took the two of them to be the founders. This much could have been gathered when she'd said that they 'ran' the pack, anyway. "Katrina," He said quietly, and with some restraint, managed not to call her 'Aunt Kat,' though he kept the nickname in the back of his mind in case he ever needed it.

He simply nodded when she gave her resignation- she didn't seem to know what to say about her relationship. He had the idea that he could have told her exactly what it was- it would've been a guess, but an educated one, one from experience, but he held his tongue. "It won't always be so." He said, but was unable to keep a tinge of melancholy from his voice. Relationships could be complicated, for sure...But the complication usually ended, one way or another. "Thank you," He said, with genuine sincerity. He now had a pack- and some semblance of family. Family who knew of his father, but didn't know of him, his brother, or what he'd become. Life could begin again.