Это такой длинный походthis is such a long trek the words came breathlessly to this big brute, he kept moving nonetheless. Telling himself he'd be somewhere quite soon; just as he was thinking that he heard the rushing river nearby. Following it intently; it wasn't long before he came across the rushing water. His ears perked; looking around his surroundings before he left the seemingly dying brush. It wasn't long before a femme, watching as she'd collapsed. The brute had two choices here; leave and pretend he didn't see anything or walk over and make sure nothing harmed her as she lay there seemingly unconscious. черт возьмиfucking hell he muttered as he argued with himself in his head, this suka was unconscious not of his doing, but most likely of her own doing. Probably ran herself ragged, he thought to himself. He growled at himself and came out of the colorful brush, padding a few feet from this girl and sitting; facing towards her and perking his ears all sorts of ways. The river was flowing and he could just hear other things above it. He tensed his muscles all simultaneously. Still arguing with himself telling himself that he should just turn and leave this femme here to fend for herself, he did have manners even though he was a total hardass and pretty much acted as if he hated everybody. He didn't think it right to leave someone out to fend for themselves when they were obviously not up to par. In this case this girl was unconscious.

Without realizing he'd stood up and was sniffing at the female, making sure she was at least breathing. He didn't nudge her, nor did he try to get her up, when he was satisfied that this vixen was at least breathing; he took a few steps back, lowering his rump to the ground and twitching his ear that was ripped through the middle and some of it missing due to it being ripped, listening to the sounds around the two of them. His self conscious still went back and forth inside of his head, telling him to leave. Staying firm and staying put; he lost himself in his own thoughts to a time when he was with his family. Top lip curled up when he thought about them. What they did to him. He'd grown up in a pack that was taught to be aggressive, was taught to hurt first and ask questions later. It wasn't until he'd found somebody who he fell for that he realized it was the wrong way to live. Keeping his personality, he stopped being that way. Instead of torture, he used words, angry words. He fought with himself over it everyday he was still there in that pack. His father led, and he was widely feared and respected by surrounding packs.

When the russian brute had questioned his fathers authority, he had attempted to go his own way. Telling them torture wasn't necessary. Well that got him a ripped ear and a mighty scar from his sister and everybody else. His father and brother included. After the attack, he was run out; forbidden from ever coming back. He spent a few months searching for some place when he came across this forest. When he finally decided to call it home; he was still exploring. At this point his eyes had stayed on the femme; watching to see if she woke up or not.