Honeyed Pasture But here you come alone and crying, now you want to be my friend

He was healing well. Still not 100% but close enough he could be for chunks at a time as long as he rested a bit later. So he felt well enough to go for a bit of a jaunt, sliding away from the borders and off into the open field beyond. The deer from the forest sometimes wandered out here for the grass -- on the not-torn up chunk at least -- at least while the weather was in the not frozen stage of the year. 

Things were pretty good again, honestly. Or as good as they could be, all things considered. He was home, most people were back -- all but his son. Out here, he could keep an eye out for Asmoses. Where did he even start on that search? Sigh. But as he wandered, he spotted a shadow coming the other direction. Not anyone he knew, or so he thought. But as he got closer, curious, a vague memory surfaced. The dumb girl with the broken ears. The pack she was with had left, hadn't it? Or at least, it had at some point stopped being something present on his radar. He had his own pack and family to worry about. But the version of Mal she faced down now was a different one than before -- he'd grown up a little in attitude and potentially respectability.

Perhaps if she wasn't pointed straight at his home he'd have gone by, but well. Seemed silly to avoid at this point. Was she still as dense? Might be fun. After a certain other ghost from his past, he wasn't giving anyone the benefit of the doubt of growing up. So, he put on a broad, bemused grin as he approached, Where are you going? It wasn't antagonistic, or at least not on purpose. A better distraction than wondering if his son was gone, at least.