Redhawk Caldera Like whales beneath me diving down

It was odd to have someone doting upon him. Or maybe doting was the wrong word; it brings to mind imagery of lovesick children passing gifts between one another. Peregrine and Amon had no such relationship. What was odd to the older man was... Not having to work for something. To have the leader of a pack happily share his stores. It was a lifestyle that Amon had left behind when he had matured enough to enter the Guard, and was almost foreign to him. So when Peregrine slipped off to fetch a morsel for the old git, Amon was suitably impressed - and somewhat guilt-stricken - when the meal was offered up to himself.

"Hnm, rest would be appreciated. I'm sure you're quite the busy bee, being the Alpha and all." Amon responded with a smirk, although there was a distinct lack of mirth in his voice. He felt out of place, suddenly. But was it really Peregrine's behavior that caused this, or the mention of the Guard? Maybe a little of both. "I've spent my days wandering an' trying ta forget about them. They ain't a nice sort of folk to be around." As soon as he said this, Amon's ears gave a little wiggle of indecision, as if admitting this would cast himself in a negative light - didn't want that.

"Gimmie a few hours? I'll find you or.. You'll find me, and we can talk s'more."