Swiftcurrent Creek I ain't happy; I'm feeling glad.

His ear cupped back to catch the sound of the boy tepidly following. His head turned to catch the slender visage in his sight, a small shadow of a smile crossing his face. He paused briefly in his tracks, allowing himself to sidle up to him, running his nose through the boy's fur just under his ear. There is prey scent all over; mayhaps we can catch some, 

The land here was unfamiliar and vast, and despite his confident stride, his eyes and ears were everywhere, his nose and tongue tasting as much of the air as they could. While they were two, his băiat was frail, so easily giving himself to him. No, he would be the defender. The băiat would follow and serve, as he had, as he would so long as they were together.

It was not prey that stilled him, but the thundering paws of a wolf. Athan stiffened, amethyst optics flaring as if illuminated by some internal source. The pale creature was close by the time he spotted him, but Athan was more than ready. He barred the way between the charging Arctic wolf and his băiat, fangs bared in defiance and rage, ready to lunge out and feast on this brute.