Kintla Flatlands Sound the bugle

Peregrine suddenly flashed back to one of his patrols with his father, Aether, when he was younger. He'd never been overly interested in guardianship, yet his parents had insisted upon cross-training their offspring. He'd enjoyed the forays around the borders well enough. During this particular instance, they'd come across a lone wolf at the borders who wanted to join. Though the gentler of the two Alphas, Aether had been short and brusque with the newcomer, interrogating her thoroughly before granting her entry into the pack.

Hawkeye's behavior toward him presently didn't jive with this memory or any other recollection of how Alphas naturally interacted with outsiders. Idly, he wondered if she was nearing her heat and whether it might be skewing her judgment. He was a male, after all, and a large, powerful and relatively healthy one near the prime of his life. Maybe she needed a mate to procure a litter this spring and it was making her lenient toward him.

He mulled over these possibilities but only for a moment. He found it hard to focus on or care about anything at the moment. Truth be told, Hawkeye's generous offer of a home didn't really entice him. There was one thing, though, that she'd offered twice now that roused him somewhat: meat. He hadn't had a square meal in such a long time that the mere mention of food made drool begin pooling in Peregrine's mouth.

At length, he said, "I'll take some food," his tone a touch gruff. He moved as if to follow her, then waited for her to assume the lead. Peregrine made sure to remain noncommittal for the moment, mostly because he still couldn't quite swallow the jagged pill of his new reality.