If he had not previously noticed his stench, he noticed it now. Or, rather, to be more accurate he noticed the lack of stench now. Once more he could actually notice the scents around him and appreciate them for their beauty and complexity and pureness, as opposed to when they had been tainted by an off-putting smell that he had never been able to place. Now, it seemed, the answer was obvious - it had been him. His rotten pelt had smelled sour and ripe, tinged with the bright sharp scent of blood, dulled though by sitting for days and days. The frigid bath in the lake's waters had done more than to simply clean his pelt though. It had seemingly reset Aindreas himself. Always had his mind been weak in the fact that it could easily give in to insanity after any new abandonment, be it by Alpha or family, friend or holder of his heart. But Aindreas had at least been able to acknowledge that fact, and perhaps that had been the reason that he sat with so much fear now in front of the boundary to his father's pack. No... to his pack.

Kalgalath's trust had been put in Aindreas whole heartedly, not only to take care of and rule the pack, but also to take care of Castiel and Vladimir. He was their guardian now, and was responsible for finishing their teachings in all aspects - how to hunt, fight, heal, bargain, and lead. One, if not both of them, would inherit the pack eventually from Aindreas. Because he knew his weakness, Aindreas feared failure. He would have never sought out such a position for himself, yet now here he was, stuck firmly within it without anyway other. He feared for their safety, and worried that his own short-comings might be his downfall. He was not strong enough to lead. He was strong enough to defend and did well following orders, but was utterly lost without them. It was most often in the absence of orders that he fell to his lesser self - such as when Serris had left him not once, but multiple times in Munashii Gekko. He had become obsessive - or at least acted more obsessively.

But ho! How different he was now - he had been absent from his pack for over at least over a week, and the last time his pack members had seen him, he had been covered in blood after just murdering one of their own for the crime of betrayal and treachery. Whereas once he had stalked the borders to the point of running himself ragged, he now had left them alone for all of this time without feeling any such need to do so. And, he thought with a smile - he had one standing set of orders. They had been from Pierce, when Aindreas had though to decline Kalgalath's request.

Pierce had told him to lead.

The order would carry on until one of his younger half-brothers relieved him of the post, and until them, that was the one thing AIndreas had to do. He had no idea what he was doing... but he would figure it out. And the only thing he knew he needed to do immediately was what he knew most - to mark the boundary. To leave his mark freshly upon it and replace the fading scent of his father before him. Closing his eyes briefly, he let loose a bark and called to the pack, letting them know of his return. What they could think of him, he didn't know given his previous appearance and absence, but at least they would know he was back. If they wanted to come to him, fine. If not, also fine. But at least now the choice was theirs.

Aindreas was home.

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