Felltree Marsh Unjaded

Though he would be loathe to ever disclose as such, Warbone was unintentionally hurt by the phrase tight-knit pack. He wasn't entirely expecting its effect on him either, so he was quiet for a while after deciding how to respond. "I misspoke," he said evenly. "I did not mean that any of you are afraid of me... Rather, I think your leader supposes I have come to take or disrupt something of yours, and that simply is not true." If he had intended to force himself into the situation, then Stark would've been attacked the moment Warbone realized he was in charge. But it wasn't like that for the Solothurn. He was more homesick than anything, and too proud to answer to anyone except perhaps a partner, which he had proposed and been subsequently denied.

His rumbling had stopped for moment, and his single eye rolled from their familiar surroundings to land on the young she-wolf in appraisal. His gaze traveled the length of coffee fur along her spine, and then settled resolutely upon her face. She had admitted to him her wariness, so he felt inclined to admit something to her as well. "I would not be here if I had left the Keep willingly, or if my heart lie anywhere else. I am a wolf who can understand if I had lost my pack by being bested in battle, or if my supporters had hated my rule and I was usurped. But I... I cannot understand this. What happened to me. To wake up one day and suddenly remember that I was someone else, that I belonged elsewhere, and to come back to find it almost entirely changed. It is... difficult, for me to understand something like that."

This moment was one of genuine clarity for him, as he realized that he'd been stuck in the mindset of four months ago— not realizing at first that it was no longer that time. That he might have to let go...