Sun Mote Copse like cereal for dinner.

I'd love some packmates he doesn't spend much time with! I'm super okay with this moving slow.

Leader of his own pack.

The concept had haunted him since Towhee had brought it up. His natural inclination was to reject the idea. He wasn't a leader, was he? He didn't have the strength and power of a sovereign--that enigmatic pull that drew others to you. He wasn't wise enough to make the sorts of decisions like his parents had been making of late. Sure, he could protect the crap out of packmates and territories, but being a leader was more than that, wasn't it? It was about the wolves that followed you, and he simply couldn't fathom a world where anyone chose him to follow.

The quandry had been on his mind all morning while he'd circled the borders. It had been on his mind while he'd trained that afternoon, and it was on his mind now as he dragged the carcass of the turkey he'd caught across the borders and into the territory. It had been easier to not think about it while he'd hunted, and I'm actually not sure if his thoughts in that moment really counted as thinking about it either. They mostly went along the lines of a leader would have no problem carrying this damn thing... how did it get so huge?

Fig would've liked to bring it further into the territory, but he eventually let it drop and collapsed onto his haunches to catch his breath. He stared at it for a moment, thinking. He wasn't actually all that hungry, and leaders shared their food (which was heartening--he had always shared his food). So, he tilted his head back and called for the pack, letting them know there was food to be eaten. He settled in then to start plucking the feathers from it, and maybe to grab a swallow or two of meat himself before anyone arrived.