Neverwinter Forest i'm beyond the archetype

Shrike tilted his head to the side when Kjalarr mentioned never having met a father...He guessed, then, that Kjalarr had been orphaned at a young age, and had been taken in by Scimitar. Obviously, he was pained by the alpha's death, and had meant a lot to Kjalarr, so Shrike respected his grief, and wanted to help him in whatever way he could. He chose not to ask too many questions, figuring it wasn't the place or the time to do so. It might even be better if he simply found the information regarding Kjalarr's past from Allure, so that he didn't have to dredge up any painful memories from the man himself. It would allow him to understand and know Kjalarr better without having to ask him. Kjalarr seemed the kind of wolf who was easily respectable, and Shrike found the way he accepted Scimitar's death to be honourable and poised. 

He was grateful that Kjalarr wouldn't try to approach Allure before she was ready. He seemed to respect Allure's need to be alone, and acknowledged the profound grief she felt. Still, he nodded. Part of him wanted to say that he would be more than capable of providing anything Allure could need, but Kjalarr, known previously to Allure as Jorunn, was likely a close family friend, and would provide that support she needed, considering they would be sharing the same grief. He was about to say that he would, when he caught the scent of Cypress, and turned his head sharply.

The youth looked downtrodden, tired and dirty. He'd been still quiet in the den with Allure when Shrike had left, and he was surprised to see the boy out on his own. His heart ached, to see Cypress wandering out., probably still driven by some purpose that was no more than a phantom. Routine had likely pushed him into action- he'd probably gotten so used to doing everything he could to locate their missing pack members that the habit still remained, despite the fact that Scimitar and Eshe had perished. Kjalarr welcomed Cypress into their presence, and Shrike nodded, padding softly toward the boy to brush his muzzle over the top of his head. He rumbled a fond growl toward the boy, and hoped to distract him. "Let's go mark the borders." He suggested, knowing that if all three of them went around the borders, they would be well reinforced.