Lost Creek Hollow Don’t’cha know eh?

@Treason @Arbiter

The existance Joss led in the pack was far from glorious- and could be considered only mildly comfortable. He avoided most of the others, but did still contribute with regards to marking the borders and hunting within the territory. It was by some stroke of mercy he’d survived the winter, though even now he hadn’t completely shed his meagre winter coat- tufts of matted fur hung off his body, too painful to grab and pull out yet as it hadn’t completely let go. The chunks of dead fur hung mostly off his flanks, belly and ruff, but the reat had shed out to reveal a thin, dull grey coat that did little to hide the bones beneath. 

Still, he was alive, though he wasn’t sure his quality of life really meant he was actually living. He took no pride in being a part of the pack- though he did take orders relatively well. Not that he was the sort of wolf to skip happily to whatever duty he had, but whatever it was he needed to get done, he did it. With a frown, yes, but that didn’t make him less effective.

Treason- no, Arbiter- had said she’d wanted to see him and he simply prayed she didn’t want him to watch her kids. Part of him hoped she’d finally just let him go free. Not that he’d fare any better in the wild on his own, nor would he likely find a pack that’d accept a wretch like him- but months of being the omega had seriously effected what tiny trace of self-worth he’d had, and had begun to make him regret choosing life. Still- he tracked Arbiter down, and called out to her with his usual, sullen woof to catch her attention, ready to take another order.