fire and ice

Crete had not inherently noticed Hawkeye’s presence as he continued on patrolling the border, blissfully unaware of his Alpha’s eyes upon him, that is until the faint wind shifted his way and he caught her scent more directly than just a recent stroll along the borders, aided by the sound of packed snow shifting and falling gracefully to the earth, crunching under each of her steps as she made the first move and approached him. Ear twitched back as his muscles instinctively froze, head turning so he could glimpse over his shoulder at her. For a moment he was almost taken aback at how she kind of looked like Aether. If Aether was still alive, young, female and lacking the giant scar that ran along the left half of his body showing proudly where he had been struck by lighting and survived to tell the albeit gruesome tale to his children (and grandchildren). Shaking the thoughts of his father away with a slight movement of his head, the mute inhaled the crisp, chilling winter air, wincing internally as it stung for a few moments before he let it out as he turned to face his superior.

Lowering his body to the ground in submission he shuffled forward to give her a lick under her chin, a showmanship of greeting from subordinate to superior. Her greeting returned, Crete turned his attention to her question. Even if he could have expressed that he was a little homesick for Flightless Falcons, but that he was enjoying himself and his newfound freedoms in Blacktail Deer Plateau, he could not. Instead he offered Hawkeye a nod of confirmation to express in a simplistic way that he did, indeed, enjoy the pack. He still thought her methods were a little strange but that was his personal opinion and it didn’t matter much anyway. He wouldn’t agree with anyone’s methods wholeheartedly if they differed from March Owl’s and Aether’s. Crete was just measurably biased that way. We will, After hesitating for a second, he reached his muzzle to brush his nose against the soft fur of her cheek as reassuring gesture, attempting to tell her that they would find a way of communicating that worked for the both of them. It would take time, as these complicated things tended to do, but they’d get it eventually. Crete hadn’t learned how to deal with his muteness magically overnight when it was realized when his siblings had began to talk and he couldn’t. This was merely another stepping stone in a path to something greater -- at least this was Crete always tried to tell himself when faced with obstacles.

table by houkie