It had been a hard season. Winter was closing in, and real estate apparently was growing more favorable around where he had chosen his home for his Family. The same Family who seemed to be disappearing with every moon that passed them by. Was he not trying hard enough? Did he have to resort to kidnapping others? 

Of course not. Gwen wouldn’t support such rogueish behavior - and her succulent face, to watch it expand unnaturally into horror if he had admitted he kidnapped other wolves to enforce their pack. He was not of Stavanger, anymore. Those weren’t his customs. Cry values respect and honesty. And secrecy. 
He couldn’t slip back into that mentality, again.

Continuing his trek around the chipper woods, he tried his hardest to ignore the sour musk of others here that he had crossed before. One day, this place would be theirs. He and Gwen would be at peace, enjoying the family that they both had been so far from. And maybe, ... maybe they could make their own legacy, one day.

Immediately he stopped as a grim thought slammed into his dark chest. He couldn’t touch his queen like that - he didn’t even know what she wanted. He knew she loved him, and that he loved her. He knew that he would readily die for her... 

but as he looked over over the border of the woods and the Isle, he wondered whether she would be willing to do anything for him. 

Asking a question like that...to physically ask someone if they’d be willing to agonizingly carry your children...to go through the torture of birthing them-

flashes of Illecebra’s face, the warning growls she had thrown at her own mate Mawk...what had this done to the woman, mentally? What caused such a flare? Would Gwen be that pained where she too would lash out at him? Of course he’d take anything she threw at him, shouldering her pain until she felt better, but how much could she handle? What if she didn’t want kids? 

The Phantom was completely perplexed by this paradox of pregnancy as he drifted soundlessly down the banks of Shadewood’s borders. There was much he had to keep to himself, to stay silent upon even against the keeper of his Heart.

The crunch of a swallow of snow that had not been made under his careful feet- While the echoes of such were inhaled by the white world around him, Cry caught the source, and he froze. First, his body remained rigid, ears swiveling to redirect his audible sight to this noise, judging the extremity of this situation. It would gauge whether this was a threat, how heavy it was, and where it was headed. However, the shuffling...it sounded unsure. The crunches were made disproportionately, seconds of difference passing between each of the last. That meant he hadn't been spotted yet, and that whomever or whatever was near was not heading for him. Taking this as a safe side, the Assassin immediately directed a iceberg gaze to a mound of snow that was peaked by a mountain of slight browns and meek clayful orchers.

It was something living, obviously. But it seemed to be struggling, to have weakness entombing it's movements. It simply lied there...helplessly.

Without much left in this circumstance, the Phantom changed his direction, ending the circuit and begining a vector direct gor this curious anomaly. Happening upon it, however, the ex-Nightmare discovered a male, slightly smaller than he, and nearly Coyish in appearances. Stuck between being kind and minding his business, Cry instead chose to follow Gwen and Phex's advice...

to take a chance at being friendly.

To make himself feel better about such a foriegn concept, he backed it up with the  logic that should anything outlandish or hostile happen with this man, Cry could exploit whatever weakness held this wolf down, and destroy him.

"Do you need assistance?" the words broke free from the void-hued timber in a chorus of baritones. Idly, Cry looked about him to ensure that this was no ruse from the nearby settling packs. He was out here sticking his neck out...
This was a terrible idea, indeed.

Looking down at the sprawl of the man through his peripherals, he felt more and more that his pessimistic ideal was misplaced here. Gwen would have wanted him to help. Phex would have offered this fellow smiles, laughter, comfort.

The Phantom could feel how this would go. And with a calm and collected mentality, he put his own priorities to the side for now.

”If food helps helps, then you will have some.” The determination to execute this problem as swiftly and efficiently as possible had always been the ex-Nightmare’s method of handling things. And with such judgement, he wouldn’t leave room for the stranger to free himself of it. The man needed help- as nearly apathetic as the Assassin had always been, he had Family to teach him what certain emotions meant and when they were most true. This wolf clearly didn’t like being seen like this, and Cry couldn’t blame him.

“My home is nearby. If you can make it, I will lead you,” Lifting his chin, Cry said with the utmost promise. Nothing hostile. “If not, then I will drag you.” 

But it in the end, this man would have a place to rest that was safe, and food to strengthen himself with. That was simply the bottom line. “I am Cry,” he offered to the man after almost passively threatening him that he would be coming home with him.

Cry watched the male struggle and held his tongue. This ordeal reminded him of Horosk who knew well enough Kelina was trying to male swipes at the pack and acknowledging there was nothing he could do about it. Cry even offered to kill his sister for him, which somehow affected Horosk with some pathetic excuse of aggression. Cry and the brunette had fought that day rather than simply exterminating the wench. And in the end, the sister had won, as the pack had dispersed rather violently.
Could he maintain himself enough to not kill this loner for fear of him starving himself over his pride? Sooner or later, he would perish. Would be better for it to be within borders rather than just outside of them, as wolves weren’t the only predators. 

“There’s no need to be against the help - as it looks to me you might need it.” Cry wasn’t trying to be a embarrass at this point. The Phantom merely pointed out the obvious. “No one judges you for your ailment.” Cry didn’t know what else to support this claim with. He would only hope the male saw logic behind such an emotional rebuttal. “My wife and I just brought home a fresh elk kill...” he trailed off trying to entice the man with a hearty food item. 

Cry saw a bit more motivation unfurl inside of his company’s body, determination bleeding vibrantly into that tawny stare. The Assassin made note how to use passive instigation to stir the man from now on, as it was clear his mind was wracked by overstepped pride. Some piece of him appreciated how the older man hadn’t stooped to ask for help. But logical aspects pointed to the flipped side of the coin. 

Seeing how much effort it took for him to not only rise, but take steps, Cry remained close to the elder should he need support. But never the less, he led him towards the sanctuary, the only evidence of their trail the shambles snow behind them.