He refused to go, at first, but the pit of anxiety only worsened as he laid in his den, it crawled up his belly and to his neck, wrapping its thick tendrils around his throat and began closing. Rye thrusted himself outside then den, vigorously shaking his fur, trying to loosen the anxiety noose that formed around his neck. It didn't work. The man pondered just outside his home, what was he to do? Rye surmised that his better conscious was trying to kick him out the door and to the meeting, the epsilon huffed. He had to join the meeting, lest he be riddled with his consciences hounding moral dilemmas. The husband kissed @Imaq and told her he'd be back; withholding the promise he wanted to make, knowing it may not be kept. Rye set on his way, loping out of the den and towards the strath. 

He arrived just as Lane began to howl, the man parked himself next to Tuuluuwaq. Rye watched in anticipation, waiting for the brash white coat to show itself. His assumptions were answered in spades, not one but two white coats emerged, along with a  third, stark, contrasting black. It surprised the man when he learned a woman such as Nyra (now Fury) had the heart to mother children. He hoped it softened her heart. Rye kept quiet, wanting his leaders to speak first. For the time being, he eyed their surroundings, scrutinizing every branch, bush and rock.