Sequoia Coast you're tearing me apart, lisa

Prince was along the borders when he caught the scent of a packmate, and loneliness drove him to trail it. He didn't expect much from the encounter-- things had been calmer since the war's conclusion, if only just. At least, for him. The boy supposed those more important than himself had plenty on their mind, as usual; he simply went about his duties and put trust in their decisions, for now. Settling in had proven a little more difficult than he expected, and Prince felt he wasn't in a place to rise in the ranks just yet. Not when he still needed to figure out what he wanted his role to be within the pack.
Those thoughts were pushed aside when he caught a second, more familiar scent. Despite himself, despite the bitterness he had forced into his own thoughts, he felt a little excited. Arrille!
He hurried, then, mind flooding with possibilities. Perhaps the other boy had been hurt, kidnapped, something-- surely there was a reason he had abandoned them. A good one, Prince hoped.
But when he arrived, he was met with tension, and suddenly his thoughts reversed course. With two packmates on the scene and neither looking very happy, the boy was instantly swayed to their side of whatever conflict was about to take place. Arrille looked well, but nervous-- to Prince, it was instant admission of guilt. His hackles rose a little, but he said nothing, lingering slightly further behind the two girls. Whether or not any noticed or acknowledged him, he didn't care. At that moment, he was caught in glaring daggers at Arrille.