After many moons of being in the exalted position of alpha, Tamlin had finally found one thing he liked about the annoying task.... the delights of scheduling things around his own agenda. For a wolf who is not the leader, pack meetings, hunts and the like can come at times when it's extremely inconvenient to attend. Now, as the alpha, the snow-hued dragon no longer had to worry about being called in for a pack meeting of considerable importance when he was unable to make an appearance. It was a definite benefit of being the leader, and yes, it was the only one he'd thought of so far, since he'd been too busy running around on pack business to settle down and spend any time just thinking about non-relevant stuff. That, of course, would bring us to the massive, tottering pile of cons that he'd somehow managed to effortlessly come up with, despite the fact that he hadn't actually sat down to think about them. With the presentation of each new con, the stallion wondered with more confusion why any wolf in their right mind would want to become an alpha. The bronco didn't remove challengers because he wanted the dang crown. He loved Bright Moon, and never could abandon his pack like Satowra had, but still, the job got a bit troublesome at times.
The day was too fine for negativity, so he banished any thoughts that were not fully positive from his psyche. He had plenty of joyous thoughts to dwell upon; his pack was an active place, no wolves had been hurt lately and Kershov had decided not to be the troublesome sort and attack en force. His stomach was pleasantly digesting a rabbit that he had caught the previous evening, so not even a pang of hunger bothered him. Yes, today was perfect in all respects. The weather was splendid, for one thing. A cool breeze blew throughout the entirety of the packlands, heralding that rain would fall within a few days with it's watery scent. For now, however, the sun shone in the azure sky, shedding light on the morning.
As Tamlin trotted elegantly to the northern border, his slender stilts moving him quickly toward his destination. He ducked and weaved through the foliage, noticing with appreciation as he ran the beautiful emerald hues that each healthy piece of greenery boasted. Upon reaching the border, he halted. His voice thrummed with feral enthusiasm as he called the pack to him with a carrying and melodic howl. He would likely readjust the ranks based on this hunt, and included that in the notes of his song. After his voice ceased to soar from his larynx, Tamlin lowered his muzzle from its skyward position and simply stood, content to await the arrival of his warriors.
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