Silverlight Terrace angry geese, a yummy feast or invincible beast

Although the offer was tempting- tempting enough in fact for him to pause in consideration- Atticus knew well he had plans set in place. Were they written in stone? No, not at all but a gut feeling directed back towards Shadewood like the magnetic pull north on a compass. The buffalo had given him a finally clear vision of what was to come in his life amid a seemingly infinite haze. However, Dash had provided similar vividness and that was not to be ignored. 

He frowned for what had seemed like the first since his arrival to Teekon. "Unfortunately, I have other responsibilities first." What the young wolf said still did spark his interest, he didn't seem to address this group as a pack. Hang was such a loose term that he hadn't associated with a home before. This was quite a provocative thought, but Atticus knew well that at the moment structure was of the utmost importance in his life. 

The idea of separating from his new friend was disappointing, to say the least. His frown had turned up slightly, "However, I don't plan to be very far from here- perhaps we can meet up again soon?"  To Atticus's favor, he had fur to hide any redness forming on his cheeks that might give away his sheepishness, new friends were a commodity to him and he was still getting the hang of making them.