He trails some way behind Flare, inky black and silver limbs scuffing against the earth as he comes. He will not be hurried, he never is, forest green eyes turned ahead as the scent of blood touches the air and his heckles lift against his spine in response. He understands battle, to an extent, he knows of it though he has never seen it and some part of his mind is curious. He had been born to battle cries after all, though this time he had heard them for himself beneath the clash of thunder. He had remained within the den throughout, lingering close to Flare for the red and white female had been a fixture within his life since the day of his birth and to his mind she is simply like a second Mother. She did not give milk- but she gave presence and comfort and he is content in that, so unaware that this organisation of mate and imprint sharing one male is far from the norm. To his mind it is sensible and logical ad perhaps this ideal will remain with him as he grows. It is a unique sort of supremacy after all- that can combine heart and soul in a way no other leaders have ever truly managed and in time perhaps he will come to discover it. For now however he continues on within the darkness and falling rain until his pelt is sodden with it though he pays it no heed. Mother is up ahead, he can scent her now, gaze watching as Flare interacts with her before his own approach.

“Mother?”

There is question in his voice as he pauses a short distance from her, black ears pricked forward as his shadowy form lingers within the darkness in which he blends so flawlessly, the mixture of scents upon her confusing to him as he moves closer at last. His gaze is sharp and sure upon her, running over her injured limb and bloodied ruff, eyeing where the flesh is torn open and droplets of blood bead to the surface. His mind is young and impressionable in this moment, his gaze lingering upon the first wounds of battle he has ever seen- so truly unaware of what he will one day become in that regard, that this single moment would become so pivotal in his life, a moment he would remember so many years from now as he looked upon his mothers battered though victorious form. Had he been capable of vision on the night of his birth he would surely have looked upon his equally victorious sire though he remembers nothing of that, knows only what he is told.

At last he seems content in his observation of her, walking forward upon the damp earth now to press his muzzle into her chest, nuzzling briefly at her in affection as his lips curve upward into a rarely seen smile offered just for her.

“You did good.”

It is…curious praise perhaps, Gunsynd moving away to sit to the side in that same moment, reclining atop the damp earth beside Flare as if his job has simply be done, content now to rest and watch- for surely the boy has never been a truly emotional creature at the best of times, the inner workings of his mind a secretive and hidden thing for he alone. His tail offering a wave every now and then however, pleased it would seem, with his Mothers victory tonight. Even if he remains wholly unsure of what she has won, to young perhaps, to fully appreciate the threat she had repelled.