lose control to feel alive

The morning was cool, crisp and fair, though summer had long since passed them and they had likely been in Fall for at least a month, probably two now. October brought with it the the precipice of winter though the days were much warmer than they would soon become as the snows came in. By what was likely sheer luck — because it certainly wasn't his ability to charm others that had gotten him in — Sumayl had a pack to call home, however tentative that word still was. Home was supposed to be where the heart was, or at least that was how the old saying went yet it wasn't to that level, just yet. Currently, it was a rudimentary dug bachelor den, a place of companionship and a full stomach. They took care of him by allowing him in their ranks (because he wasn't valuable to them — not yet, anyway) and he took care of them by making sure the caches were filled some something twice a day and by running patrols along the borders. His primary focus was the Gameskeeper trade, though Warden was what he had his eye on as a secondary trade. The golden Ostrega wove his way easily through the oasis of trees that took over the bottom half of mountain, stopping at the first cache he came across.

Sumayl had began developing a certain routine to his days, rarely taking the time to break from it to socialize like he realistically knew he should have been. So far, he'd only met Vienna and Jace of whom he had not started off on the right paw with through no one's fault but his own, admittedly. Sumayl wasn't used to having to curb his confrontational personality, neither was he particularly fond of being scolded for cursing like a sailor when he'd done it since the moment his foster parents had let him viably get away with using such vulgar vocabulary. Sumayl had some issues to work out with the Beta Male — likely that went both ways. There was a logical part of Sumayl knew that getting off on the wrong foot with the Beta Male hadn't been the smartest decision, but if Jace had truly had any sort of problems with him he could have just as easily turned Sumayl away.

Claws dug at the softened soil, only made so from the upheaval of the cache's cover daily, and poked his nose in when he'd reached the treasure of meat hidden by it. None of it smelled rotten, and he lifted his head to study the cache. It seemed alright currently though he figured to make up for the fact that it didn't need anything added to it this morning he'd check it at noon again just to be double sure. Sumayl covered the cache back up, patting the dirt meticulously back into place before he turned away from it and headed deeper into the heart of The Sunspire, intending on finding some quick breakfast before he truly began his day.