Steps do not falter as the prismatic boy stalks, his steps sure as he trails his princess, this time sure to keep his steps quiet and his scent concealed. Like his brethren he too was learning the art yet unlike them he learned from trial and error. Just this morning he had taken the time to roll rather sufficiently in a patch of coffee plant that grew just new one of the common grounds. The heavy scent clung to his pelt, masking his natural cologne, perfect for his daily following of his masked dame. He had come upon the plant quite by accident, having run into it after a particularly horrid meeting with the princess. He had almost come unhinged, fleeing the situation as soon as viably possible. She was his only weakness, and yet he could not extract himself from her stubborn visage. She and only she could tame his beast, a beast he still was not sure he wanted tamed.

So it being as he was already head first into his ritual he did not miss the call as it flitted upon the crisp mountain air. Nor did he miss the way his sweet Firefly’s ears perked up, or the way her body angled toward the summons. Naturally he fell into step, yet far away enough that even his “brother” of sorts missed him. To say that a smirk of satisfaction did not mar his facial features would be an understatement for he truly felt for the red boy. Flame was the only one who endured his hot and cold ways, and it was Flame that the Spartan warrior would always defend. Yet unless you actually understood the chaotic workings of his brain one would never know that Leo had a protective streak. He was for lack of a better word a “bully.” One who was known for fighting first asking questions later, his only priority is knowing where you stand. Yet it was not like he actually went looking for it, it just happened that it came to him. It is not like it is a secret that he had a massive temper problem.

It, however, is not long before his frame enters the scene. His vibrant eyes taking in the other yearling boys, his own frame tall yet not in the same way as Flame, yet he made up for it in pure aggression. Silently he sidles forward, nodding his head at Flame, his brother, before standing beside Firefly. She may be his princess but he still would not let her think that she was above him. Ranks meant nothing to him unless proven stronger; stronger in mind or in physical prowess, preferably both. It was nothing personal; it was just his instinct that screamed only the strong and smart lead. For if a weakling or uneducated stood at the helm then they would inadvertently handicap the whole pack.

The warrior’s stance is borderline aggressive, for it was his natural stance, as he angles almost protectively toward Dany. He still does not speak, only stares at the two boys, in particularly at the one in front. His inner turmoil so close to the surface that one could almost feel it as it rages through his aura, hinting to his unstable nature. If you come in peace, do speak fast, for he does not like this situation, and will not be held accountable for his actions despite what Dany or Alcide may be inclined to believe.

No, he did not like them so close to his Dany not one bit.