Duty had been Sleekwing's life for more years than he cared to count. Despite having been the firstborn to his parents, it had been before they had risen to power. He had been a prince, by all counts still was a prince of some sort, but he'd never coveted such a title. From the days of his youth he had lived only to protect those that he loved. And that devotion to an honorable standard had molded over time, becoming a code by which he lived. But it was not any one wolf whom he stood to protect, it had become the mountain in and of itself. Forever and for always he would strive to make the pack lands a safe place, no matter the wolf who reigned over it. Even when Purge had murdered his mother and by association was responsible for the demise of his father, he had remained during her meager attempts to lord over the mountains. For four years now he had served his younger sister Daenerys, and he thought her a fit ruler if there ever was one. She was well and truly their parents' heir, and none of their other siblings would ever even desire to contest such a thing. Perhaps at some point their brother Swallowbane had resented her for it, but during his last trip home he had seemed to come around to the idea that Alcide and Moonglow had made the right choice. Daenerys had been born for it in a way that none of her previous or following siblings had.

Unfortunately the fact that Daenerys was the best wolf to rule in the mountains was due to come into contention at some point. For nearly four years she had stood unchallenged, but during that time she and Sleekwing had sparred many times. As her elder brother and her Castellan, Sleekwing took it as his responsibility to keep her fit for battle. That was why when Covet's petty challenge rang out across the mountain Sleekwing did not so much feel nervous about the potential change of leadership; rather he was worried what state Daenerys would return to them in. It was because of the challenge that the heather marked brute set off, away from his patrol of the borders. He knew that others were about, all of the scouts and warriors set on edge by the potential threat. Sleekwing was confident in them and his sister to fend off any who dared overstep into the territory during this time. And so he loped off towards the woodlands in the east, thinking perhaps one of the deer who had migrated into the area for the autumn might make a good meal for the Queen when she returned victorious.

He stalked the herd for some time until he picked out a lame doe that was less the focus of the rutting bucks' attentions. It did not take him long to separate her from the herd and then push her deeper into the cover of the trees. The bucks were intent on keeping the rest of their does together, and so Sleekwing was left to pursue the doe by himself through the forest. His main intent was to keep her moving forward, and to prevent her from turning back towards the clearing where the herd was. If he could keep her moving, eventually her lame leg would take its toll and he would be able to easily take her down. As he dashed through the forest, snapping at her heels and flanks to keep her moving, his attention was briefly caught by the form of a wolf standing against a tree. Even though he barely got a glance at him, something beckoned a summoning bark from Sleekwing's maw. He invited the younger male to join him in the hunt; after all, it would make the take down go quicker and he wouldn't have to chase her for nearly as long if there were two sets of jaws to pull her to the earth. What it was that made Sleekwing invite this unknown wolf to join him in the hunt could hardly be known - he merely attributed it to a gut feeling.