Swiftcurrent Creek i'm just the muscle

Scim, despite his indifference to the pack he had yet to fully connect with, was rounding the borders once more.. a task he found himself doing most frequently, if only to keep himself moving. Successful hunting required a larger party, and after the news that the pack had seemingly lost two of their loyal members (or so the agouti male had drawn the conclusion they were), it had been unsettling with silence.

His large strides were casual still, his figure held more neutral than he would have in Neverwinter Forest when he had been higher on the totem pole. His thoughts clouded with the flash of ivory fur and turquoise eyes that haunted his mind -- he had barely known her, and yet it was much like proposed happiness had slipped his grasp.

Before, it had never been an ambition that had crossed his mind, and yet as the days passed his considerations lengthened on the matter -- perhaps, following was not his best suitability. Perhaps, at his age, he was ready to lead. Fox had never offered him much insight to the home he had chosen, and aside from witnessing two members banned from their home and a meeting called by the Betas that had been as brief as a breeze of wind, the agouti male had no follow up on any of the matters of the Creek.

Each day that passed, he found himself caring a little less.

His pelt was damp with the rain -- his nose flitting to the ground to inhale a stagnant scent of a loner that had seemingly passed by. It was then that a scent more familiar to him than others drifted to him, and blinking, Scimitar lifted his creamy muzzle, his eyes regarding the moving form of the ivory Beta with stoical indifference, despite his larger figure shifting to lower within her presence.