Hideaway Strath they lifted up their eyes and beheld, a company come bearing balm and myrrh,

Kynareth’s been a lot more tired recently. Truly it’s because of their new captive, Simmik. Having to travel to check on her every day and hunt food for her. Then the dark cloud looming over his head about the whole situation in general. It makes him want to knock his head up against a rock until he ceases to exist. Yet, he doesn’t. He’s too full of himself to do anything like that.

So instead, while he’s lounging about in his den drifting off into what will be a beautiful, peaceful sleep he hears a howl reach his ears. It comes from the mouth of the cave a bounces off the mountainous walls. Oh, this could either be good or bad. He thinks. Recently it’s never really been in the middle.

So he’s getting up with a sigh and a stretch. Cracking bones that will soon become too old for him to fight anymore. He begins a brisk trot to the mouth of the Strath. 

It doesn’t take him too long at all to arrive. When he get here he sees another male. He’s built and seems youthful enough despite the grey patches of his muzzle, throat, and limbs. He has hawkish gold eyes much like Donovan’s own and he finds himself glancing into them eagerly. Not out of Dominance, no, his appearance screams ‘I am the captain now’ so he’s not worried about it. Rathe the shameless takes in his form and finally meets his eyes once more.

A casual smile forms on Donovan’s maw. “Evening. You find yourself at the borders of the Saints. May I help you?” He hums deeply, his voice casual.