Silvertip Mountain Arm yourself because no one else here will save you.

Mason’s ears flicked backwards at the sound of an approaching wolf. Instinctively his hackles fluffed out, all cottony soft fur, and his tail rose. All defensiveness left him when he turned to spot a pale grey wolf, and he heard his Dad’s voice float across. Mason allowed his father to approach before he spoke, tail wagging behind him as he reached up to bump the underside of FitzDutiful’s chin with his nose. 

“Hey Dad, yeah I’m just lookin’ around. Makin’ sure there’s no baddies.” Mason grinned up at his father, who would always be taller than his son thanks to Mason’s stunted, slender legs. It appeared that Zaria and his Dad were doing an amazing job of sneaking around, as Mason had no clue about their burgeoning relationship. It did help their case that he and June were still all childhood naivety. 

“What have you been doing?” he asked as he turned to continue on his trail, fully expecting his Dad to fall in line and walk with him.