Winter was edging it's way towards spring time. He could tell it as the days began to grow just a tad bit longer and the sun just a hare warmer. The way the snow melted before freezing as if in defiance of what would soon take place. Blizzards swept in then out of Iromar in raging torrents, furious at having to give up their rightful place so early, and spring fought with the fervency of a seasoned warrior. It did nothing, however, for Blackthorne's raging testosterone. He had taken to marking his borders repeatedly, lips lifting in furious aggression anytime one of his own male compatriots had neared any of the females too close. Gazmala had seemed to bask in the attention for Thorne was often by her side or Eve's, sniffing them constantly, marking them with his scent, obsessive in his dominance. It was instinct that guided him to feed them often, his own muscular form remaining in peak physical condition from his eating habits as well. It was all he could do besides mark, protect, eat, and wander.

When he had traipsed by the usual haunt of Gazmala and found her scent leading out of Iromar he had grown angry. Furious enough to send up a howl of complaint into the air before going on a rather vicious hunting spree of any moving thing nearby. In the end his spoils were a fat hare, a lean hare, a thick-furred muskrat, and a broken-necked crow. The wise animals of Iromar had fled upon his initial scream of fury so his pickings had been rather slim. He leaves them in a pile near the border, his paws pacing over it, then back, in looping ambles.

The wind shifts and with it comes the pregnant stench of Gazmala accompanied by that of a male. Young, but male nonetheless, and Thorne spins on a dime to race after the winding scent trail. His powerful legs barrel through snow drifts, dead brush, and he cuts them off rather swiftly, head down and ears back with teeth flashing. He comes to a bracing stop before them, tail risen and fur pricked as he snarls at Asunder. Does it matter that Gazmala had brought him here? No, not in this moment when his instinct is to possess what is his, to alert the male (even one too young for such pursuits) who was dominant.

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