Swiftcurrent Creek A tisket a tasket

The words would have stirred a small smirk from the male, though he withheld these notions. His eyes pointedly regarded the ebony male, finding it almost endearing how the elder thought to make his mark on the world by simply visiting strange packs and offering words he likely considered sage advice. Perhaps one day, if Scimitar was indeed only but a subordinate within the walls of a pack and held no mate or child to his name, he would look back to this day with bitter enlightenment.

"Then I guess I best wish for a swift death," he rumbled in turn, his eyes shifting to catch view of a squirrel as it shimmied up a tree. It seemed strange to him how the world did not simply stop when another considered themselves knocking on death's door sooner rather than later.

He would have mentioned his desire for a mate and children -- but this was not something he simply shared. He was youthful yet, though not as young as most of the population at the Creek. His dreams were only beginning to stir.. he simply did not know how to reach out and grasp them.