Hushed Willows stuck on a chain

*scoots an awkward buchanan in here*

Since Banner had told him weeks ago about Warbone Buchanan had taken to patrolling the borders. This left a smaller window of time for him to add to her feather collection but in the long run the ex-assassin rationalized to himself that running patrols to ensure that the mysterious male that had propositioned his (Buchanan's) girl did not return took precedence. He moved with purpose, eyes and ears alert. His hyper-vigilance worked in his advantage on patrol as it did when he was hunting prey for the Keep's caches. As far as Buchanan was aware at any rate, Warbone had not made a return trip and if he had then Banner had kept it from him, but as he doubted his mate would keep something like that from him for too long he felt certain in his assumption that for now Warbone had vanished. Inherently, Buchanan was suspicious of the proverbial radio silence. He did not trust that the other male had given up so easily.

Then again, Buchanan drew from how he would react and knew that he, personally, wouldn't have given up. Failure was not an option. It had been one of The Officer's rules and ...threats. Even now, months later, even around Banner who was the only being on the earth that made him feel remotely normal (as well as being the only thing he cherished and loved in the world) The Officer haunted him. He was a broken thing that could not be fixed. Still, he strove for normalcy as much as was possible for him. He had Banner and he had Marauder's Keep and it was more than he had ever thought he'd ever have. The transition into civilian life after spending his entire life being manipulated and controlled was ...far from easy. He knew that he would always bear the struggle.

A call had risen upon the borders, not too far from his position at the time it had sounded. His pace quickened and soon he saw her through the long tangles of willow trees. The leaves had begun to fall from the long, spindly branches which worked at both an advantage and disadvantage. He shrugged through them, silvern gaze locked upon the charcoal coated young woman. His docked tail rose though the affect of dominance was likely lost in that gesture. He was subservient by fabricated nature but she was an outsider and for the moment he was the only Marauder here. In this singular moment he was the highest ranking Marauder present. Never before had he had to confront a stranger at the border and realized he had no idea what he was supposed to say. Talking had never been his strong suit anyway.

“Your name and purpose here.” He demanded simply, cutting straight to the point, figuring he could hold the line until Stark or Banner arrived.