Swiftcurrent Creek LET HER GO, BOYS | join

Lethe: a name he'd found unusual. But, the unusual was greatly embraced. He was about to remark on this, but the conversation had changed direction.

The introductions had been entertained, and now came the meat and bones of this exchange. She was off, swiftly moving following her request. He complied, falling into step behind her. His strides made a shallow attempt to keep up. He'd remain behind, flanking. "I've the usual talents of our breed: providing, protecting, seeking." He'd offer the information nonchalantly. He had known no real talent in either skill, only the basis of what instinct offered. A thought would soon come to him, and it surprised him he hadn't considered it sooner. It'd never been a true task needed among the wolves he'd been raised with.

It was something left to the Alphas, the Betas. But, perhaps Lethe would have use for his more docile nature.

"But, I am a better peacekeeper than warmonger." the softer of three; the heart, the soulful one. It was not an easy decision, flying the coop. But the youngest of Heston's children had felt a need to explore the world, to find himself. There was never a chance for developing an independent identity. There was never the opportunity to be a singular identity. And there, standing before Lethe, he found that chance. None knew him as one of three; none there knew him as the son of any. He was himself: he was simply Thorne.

And there was something wholly empowering in that.