Blackfeather Woods Can you turn my power off?

hihi ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

It was far from uncommon to find the Inuit trailing along the borders. It was his job to do so, after all, and he took a great deal of pride in his work. As of late, however, he found himself being driven by a new motivation, though he'd yet to realize it. Everyday he would set off with the unconscious intent to locate Nemesis, but to realize the reasoning behind his actions was somewhat impossible. Never could he figure out that it wasn’t only his need to protect his homeland that drove him to patrol everyday, but the possibility of seeing a familiar face, too. Even if he were to realize what he was doing, the man would be loath to admit it. There was nothing that should cause him to seek the company of the dark woman, thereby allowing him to deny the budding emotions that currently laid dormant in his heart. No, he would not admit to something that was impossible; that is, if he ever came to realize it was happening.

That morning, the male had not set out to perform his almost-ritualistic duties. Instead, he’d allowed himself the chance to sleep in, before seeking out the known form of his son. The boy was nowhere to be seen, however, which didn’t surprise him too much. The male had yet to learn of what transpired during the boy’s last trip out of the woods, which prevented him from fully understanding the younger Inuit’s most recent change in behavior. It was strange to go so long without seeing his son, but he did not test the boundaries by seeking the other out and forcing his way into Xan’s life. They were not the same, though father and son, and he would not pretend as if they were. Kove would continue to give the other space until things got too far out of hand, and that was that. It was a decision he’d made, and something he would not go back on.

Before long, the sun had reached its peak in the sky and began hovering there for a little while, informing the pallid wolf that the evening had arrived. Knowing he’d skipped out on his morning patrols, the man decided it would be best to at least complete an evening session of work. After making a beeline for the borders, he continued to trek along and remark them when necessary, body and mind in a constant state of vigilance. Never would he allow anyone to get past him, nor would he hesitate in chasing away any threats or purposeless travelers. It was that very same attentive nature that had earned him his trade, as would it allow him to gain his very own specialty—that, however, was for another time. Presently, his focus was pulled elsewhere as the sound of unfamiliar footfalls reached his ears.

Every creature, both as a species and as an individual, had a specific gait. It was something that Kove had learned to identify others by if the wind wasn’t blowing to his favour, though he knew it could not always be correct. The way someone walked could change, after all, as well as be manipulated. The scent that then filled his nose worked as a confirmation for his belief, however, for the scent was not one he knew. It was partially wonted, the scent of Blackfeather’s claim noticeable, but the wolf himself remained unknown. It was someone Kove had never met, but he was about to change that. With his steps as light as ever, he lessened the distance between himself and the stranger, remaining silent as he observed him for a moment. Something about the new face seemed off, though the Inuit felt no need to verbally point that out. Instead, he fell into stride beside him, disinterested in slowing him down if he had a specific place to be. “Where are you heading?” he elder wolf questioned, though his voice was somehow devoid of curiosity. Perhaps it was strange to others, but he was often reluctant to let even the simplest of emotions slip into his tone.