The Heartwood thunderstruck

Also just a cameo unless approached.

He did not stray far these days. Not that now, there was a loosely knit group of like minded wolves slowly forming what may one day be a pack. But, bitter experience taught him not to get his hopes up too soon. He would keep his reservations until he was sure each and every one of them was here to stay.

And, true to his pledge, he kept within easy reach of his young friend, Sovereign. Only ever a short scent trail or a call away. He would not let her out from under his radar. Would not abandon her like so many others. He hoped she understood that he meant to be a symbol of certainty in her otherwise turbulent life.

What drew him out today, was a pungent scent that no wolf, male or female, could ignore. Though fully mature in size, he was not yet of breeding age. Lacking the desire or instinct that would drive a more mature male to procreate. But, the wintery season had spiked up his hormones. The results were a mixture of heightened aggression, tenacity and possessiveness. 

He followed after Zharille's trail with nothing more than a few investigatory, if not disinterested sniffs. Two others mingled close by. One, of a much older male. Mature and in his prime. And, more to his greater focus, Sovereign. Glacial eyes darted between one wolf to the next, lingering on his white companion the longest. She was new to these wolves, he knew. A wave of white hot protectiveness rushed over him. Prudently, he hung back, chiseled jaw firm. Letting her test the waters on her own. If she made a wrong move, he would step in only when he felt the situation may escalate.