Duck Lake as I love the name of honor more than I fear death

Had he known the thoughts of the injured yearling, he might have taken him for a little ‘test drive’ of sorts – especially the way his eyes attempted to hold his own sea green gaze. Had he not known any better, he would have swore those were DeMonte eyes, much like his own.

The words that were offered to him only drew a shake of disagreement from his muzzle, his broad shoulders lifting in a shrug as he moved closer, closing some of the distance between them as he inspected the rogue. “Afraid not,” he corrected, his tail lashing through the air once as a burst of autumn wind ruffled his cinnamon pelt. “I don’t know a ‘Hadrian.’”

Had he been more interested, he might have allowed his eyes to search the boy – looking for the wounds that had left a trail of blood. Water simply could not soak off blood like that without it bubbling forth again until properly closed or healed, and yet he saw nothing. It mattered little, Swiftcurrent Creek held no healer.. and Scimitar certainly owed no lone wolf any favors. His time and devotion served his pack, and them alone.