Whitefish River L'avant

If he needed to earn the role, he would. He'd show his mother just how worthy of such a title he was. Why she couldn't already see that, he did not understand. 

Scouting. That was on the agenda today. Finding local hunting spots, plants, and, if fate would have it, potential recruits. 

A wolf. The scent of which made his nose wrinkle. After he'd registered who it belonged to, he knew why. Chaudry, showing up long after himself. Had his mother not liked the wolf, Chesley might feel inclined to put him in his place. 

He followed the scent, wanting to address the disappointment. 

It was absolutely infuriating for Chesley that his brother had strength over him. Such a waste.

The scent was nearby, and upon cresting a small hill, he could see the wolf. Large, unable to be missed. Late.