Felltree Marsh Like spinning plates

Stark might have seen to it that Tambourine was not alone or unguarded, though it was mostly unnecessary: the boy slept like a log. Except that he stirred awake perhaps twenty minutes after the new Alpha's departure, his bladder fit to bursting. With a grunt, the growing pup pushed himself to his paws and blinked sleepily at his nearby caretakers. He almost badgered Banner to come outside with him to pee. But he was a big boy now! He could roam the territory freely and didn't need anyone to come with him to take a leak. So he slithered from The Crook, uncharacteristically grumpy and quiet as he disembarked.

He meant to turn right around and go back to bed after emptying the tank, yet he caught a whiff of Stark's scent threading through the willow trees. Curious as to why he wasn't in the communal den and eager as ever to hang with his buddy, Tambourine unthinkingly began to track him through the darkness, showing a nearly uncanny talent for it. Although he was young, he was somewhat familiar with the concept of pack borders and knew when he crossed over them. But if his Alpha was up ahead, then there was nothing to fear, right?

His eyes—finally darkening from that stone-washed blue—squinted through the gloom when he spotted a silhouette in the near distance. He had actually missed Stark entirely and was looking at his very own father, not that Tambourine was to know that. "Stark!" he bellowed, having woken up a lot on his little jaunt, running right at Reek.