He has very rarely ventured far from his father - but the appearance of one Coquette and one Malachi, well, he feels more confident leaving his father on his own. He knew that there were a couple family members disconcerted by their mother’s rival’s assimilation into his life, but from what he could see - it had left his father healthier mentally and emotionally. It was not as though he was over mother, Cato was present for a couple screaming wake-up-calls at night when his father was in an especially bad way, especially at this time of year. It was just nice to see that death would not steal both his parents in an untimely fashion.

And so when the howl goes up, his feet take to walking. He arrives, too, just after a little infant of a pup toddled into the group and stared up with awe in her eyes - as if they were some great legendary creatures. He chuckles, his cinnamon brown colorations keeping him relatively well hidden until that time and when he breaks the line of Taviora, he approaches with the intent to keep an eye on the little pup who had wandered so very far from home. Couldn’t be that he wanted to mingle, no, he was too old to be craving people his age to pal around with-- pfft.

Yea, okay Cato.

“You must be Mouse,” he says, always so up to date, our Cato. He even almost picks her up and retreats back to their pack to deliver the girl home, when he sees tear streaks and shoulder swaths and freezes dead in his tracks -- all other children forgotten for a long, deafeningly silent, moment. “Janus? Aine?”

The Walking Dead is apparently not just a human TV show.