Broken Boulder i lead the pack so my back's to them

Slowly but surely, he was getting used to life in his brother's new pack. At any rate, it was better than the tribe breathing down his neck with every step he took. It was a lot more relaxed here, no rituals to speak of, just a bunch of wolves from different places seeking shelter, doing the best they could with the talents they had to keep the place afloat. It was refreshing, really. Not having to deal with any religious bullshit.

Zamael took to wandering around, trying to make himself useful. Some hunting here, some herb-gathering there. On the coast, he'd been adept at predicting the weather, but it seemed like there was no use for that here, at least not in the early summer. None of his talents really carried over. But he felt as though Alarian could forgive him for that, at least.

Today, he thought he'd give patrolling a try, when he spotted what looked like a fuckin' dog walking the borders, head held high. As he drew closer, he noticed she smelled of milk--must be the new mother, but why the hell wasn't she in the den? Weren't her kids just born, or something? Brows raised, Zamael padded toward her, falling into step without really asking.

"You look excited," he remarked wryly, looking over at her beaming face. "Been a while since you got out?"