there was a moon, once

Mercury had decided to take Junior up on her advice — to a degree, at any rate. Despite his better judgment, and the fact that his father slightly terrified him (or perhaps it was the knowledge that he would be the forever disgraced and hated son that terrified Mercury the absolute most) Mercury decided that it was not a debonaire move to sneak out of the Bay when Ragnar was away on an outrider mission. Ragnar was a demon that Mercury would have to face and the brunt of disappointment that was sure to follow would be Mercury's to bear, even if he was hoping to avoid it all, even if it was a cheap shot or below the belt. Damn it all for his foster sister encouraging him to be a better person than he wanted to be.

Mercury had decided to give the borders a patrol, deciding that someone needed to pick up the absence of Ragnar and deciding that together Gunnar and him conquering their father's usual patrol about amounted to his father's usual patrols. It was during such a time that a foreign, yet slightly familiar scent, assuaged his leathery nostrils which flared in accordance to allow Mercury to test the air. Soon enough, the smoky black Lodbrok came into view of the wolf who was near the Bay's borders. Drawing in a breath he let out a low chuff to announce his presence so that he did not alarm the male. The closer, albeit with controlled caution, that Mercury went to the other male, the more his scent tickled at the recesses of the boy's mind. It was familiar because he'd scented it on Nerian's pelt for a while, definitely the scent of another pack though which pack Mercury hadn't cared enough to pester his father's mistress.

“You're awfully close to our borders, stranger.” Mercury observed, pausing when he was within adequate speaking range of the other, leaving quite a bit of distance between them, for safety measures.