With his eyes closed and the sun shining so brightly down on the rock and warming him he could almost imagine it was still summer. Fall brought winter and winter brought nothing but cold and tough decisions, neither of which he was in the mood for. Life was much simpler when he could just laze about by the ocean with no real drive to do anything more than have sand wedged between his toes. And yet the seasons did change and leaders fell and threw everything in to chaos. Another thing he wasn’t fond of. He was too flippant to truly care, too detached from the pack to really wonder about what this change would mean for him, but he did worry for his brother and his mate knowing that this would undoubtedly have much more of an effect on him.

As if reading his mind the familiar scent of his brother found him closely followed by the sounds of his approach. Sure enough his tired voice breaks the monotony of the waves crashing and gulls crying over head. He cracks a medium blue eye, squinting against the sun and letting the familiar form of his brother come in to focus. “I am doing exactly what it looks like I am doing, you know me well enough to know that I’m only ever doing what I appear to be doing,” his voice rings out with a slight smile playing on his lips and a few wags of his slender tail. He knew how troubled his brother must be, saw the strain around his eyes and the tightness in his voice were as clear as day to him.

As Sinclair moved on to the rock and positioned himself behind him he righted himself, standing momentarily and giving a good shake. After dislodging the loose sand and causing a few pieces of his wiry fur to stick up haphazardly he sat next to his brother and looked out over the water with him. He shot a glance toward him at his question, wondering exactly what he was getting at. He inhaled for a moment before speaking. “I have no reason to leave,” he said finally, a rare weightiness to his words, “and until given one I may as well enjoy the view.”

He shifted, angling his hips into a more comfortable but sloppier position. Sin had always been the more rigid of the two of them, more focused and driven to do a capital s Something with his life while Ryk was happy exactly where he was. “You’re staying?” he questioned, though he was fairly sure he already knew the answer. It surprised him actually that his mate wasn’t following her father, but it wasn’t up to him to make such decisions. After all he would undoubtedly be very bad at making them.