Neverwinter Forest the wolverine explores

c:!

There was no true purpose to Skagos' wondering except to explore; which was done at his own pace. There had been extremely rare occasions in which Skagos was permitted to step outside of Coatl's Rise's borders though often this was a deceptive strategy when outriders would bring with them a Gladiator of their choosing as an escort of sorts. The Amazon women did not need a male protector in the slightest, all more than well versed in the art of being warriors. A Gladiator served the Amazon women with their life. To give one's life for an Amazon woman was an honor, in or out of the arena, and that was the purpose that they served. The loss of a Gladiator if things would happen to go awry would not effect the pack nearly so much as the loss of a valuable Amazon woman. In the pawful of times that Skagos had been chosen to escort things had never gone awry; which was smart. Earning the ire of Coatl's Rise was not something the packs of the Valley he'd been born into would have wanted. Exploring the lands outside of the Rise had never truly been an option for him, though, and he found himself giving in to avarice now that it was freely afforded to him; or perhaps because he'd seized the opportunity as it arose. Either way made no difference.

The iron-clad loyalty for duty and Queen within Skagos found the idea of drawing this mission out to be unfavorable; knew it to be wrong. Yet, the egoistic part of him soothed the disapproval he felt for his own actions. This might be his only chance he received to venture away from the Rise where he had been born and it'd been forseen that he would die — just like his father before him. ...If he chose to return. He didn't have too; and about the only wolf that would miss him would be Five; something Skagos mutually shared with the older Doctore.

There was a noise — whisper soft — that caught Skagos' attention. A field mouse, scuttling frantically away. From what Skagos did not immediately know until he saw a tail twitch in the corner of his vision. Ears thrust to stand alert atop his skull and his hackles bristled at his nape, rising slightly along his strong spine with caution. “Who goes there?” The Doctore demanded, calling into the maze of evergreens as they rose like skyscrapers around him as the muscles within his own body pulled taunt, ready to defend or attack if it became necessary. He scented nothing to give him the response that it was a who; but he had asked his question, regardless. Only time would tell if his suspicion was correct, or if it was a trick of the woodland.