Wapun Meadow in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

It was with watchful eyes that he led his children out of the valley that day, having told @Indra of his intentions. He appreciated all that she had done for them thus far, how she’d taken them under her wing and into her care, even if he did not always show it; he didn’t want to worry her by taking the children without notice. It was odd to do so, truly, yet he thought no further on it once he and his offspring were out beyond his claim—he could not think about it any longer, not whilst his guard had to remain up and his senses honed in on the world around them.

As they arrived, Alexander stared. First at Reigi as she pressed against the male at her side—a sight that did not stir within him the same fury that it would have just months ago,  much to his surprise—then the male in question; he did not growl or snarl, wanting not to unsettle his children. The man held his attention for only a short moment as he felt his son move behind his legs and saw his stolen daughter take a step towards him; she was the first to do so, her mother—reborn as a coward before him—needing the encouragement of the male prior to making a move. But even with the two of them moving towards him, he did not nudge either Marten or @Nunataq forward. He remained in front of his son and motioned for his eldest to join him, too, so that he might better guard them; she’d taken one from him, he would not allow another to be lured away—though perhaps that wasn’t enough, as he called out “Yakone” as softly as he was able, her being just within his reach a tempting thing to behold.

Whether she’d approached him or not, his eyes slowly drifted over to her mother, at whom he could not help but glare; he’d given her more than he’d given anyone else before, and it still wasn’t enough. It’d never been enough, not for one as greedy as his former wife. “Still relying on someone else?” were the first words to leave his mouth. “We were together once, but you needed that”—he jabbed his muzzle in Komodo’s direction—“to say something before coming closer?” His lip twitched, the threat of a snarl trying to invade his expression, but he held off for the sake of his children.