MEN SHOULD KEEP THEIR WORD . . .

The scaled brute was trying to get his life back to its normal routine and order. For a long time he had had the same routine everyday and that was how he liked it. There was order that way and he could tell immediately when something was off or wrong. When things were always the same it was easy to see if something went array. And that was what he wanted, for the control to come back. And he was quickly on the right path to having that control. He and Macarai had adjusted well to being parents, despite their worries about how his mate would react to being a mother. She had been an excellent mother and continued to be an excellent mate. The pair had been learning how to deal with letting their growing pups become more independent and grow. They were all taking more and more time to be on their own and go out and explore, and he often worried about them. At first Grey Wind would follow them, tracking them so they wouldn’t realize it. But after sometime, and Macaria telling him he was being to overprotective, he had let them go be their own self. It still worried him and he would sometimes go out and find them to make sure they were okay, but he was better about being a helicopter dad.

The other challenge that Grey Wind had was balancing life in day and night. If he was up all day stalking his young, he never saw his mate. And if he was up all night with his mate then he would not be around to see his pups. So he had been trying to live a double life, awake at night and during the day, but in shorter spurts of each. So far it was working out well, and he got time to be with those that were most important to him. Now that his personal life was back in order, he began to work on his pack life. After being appointed a position, he held a gathering to invite those that might want to learn or practice their fighting skills. He also began doing more border patrols, both day and night, to keep track of everything that might be going on. He would be a useless pack member if he didn’t know what was going on in the pack he lived in.

The male had spent some time with Macaria, before he went out to patrol the borders. The moon and starts were plenty bright to light his path, especially since there were no trees to hinder his view. Living without the forest around him had been something he had to get used to, and sometimes it still bothered him. He often felt so exposed out in the open. But at the same time, everything else was exposed. One would have to be an expert to hide in these lands. Grey Wind was working on figuring out how to blend in to the surroundings when there was nothing to blend into, but it was near impossible. He was thankful that his pelt was a color that helped him sink into the rocks and mountains, but on open lands there was nothing he could do. And tonight he was out on open lands, his yellow orbs glancing left and right to track what was around. So far there was nothing of concern, but then something caught his attention. There was a howl calling to one in the pack. Grey Wind quickly followed the sound, wanting to know who was at their borders even though the call was not for him. When he got to where the call had come from, he saw three wolves. One of which he recognized as the female who had caused such distraught with Kershov at the pack meeting, and another was Kershov’s daughter. The one who had gone missing as a pup. The third he did not recognize, and there was no foreign scent to him. Immediately, Grey Wind was on alert. There was only one explanation for not having a scent. He was a vampire.

The brute picked up the pace, trotting towards the trio, and when he saw the stranger attack Gwyneira, he began to sprint. Without pausing his stride, he launched himself at the vampire. He hoped to catch him off guard despite the sound and site of his approach being obvious. He tried to get the brute off of Gwyneira, keeping himself in check to not attempt to kill the male. His goal was to knock him to the ground, to hold him down, wound him if necessary but not kill him. If he was asked to kill the vampire by Kershov, he would have no issues at all doing so. There was no reason that Gwyneira should have been attacked. And her screams in the background just helped him focus on the task at hand. He snarled at the stranger, snapping at him as he stood protectively by Kershov’s daughter. If he was not successful in getting the other male to the ground, he would do his best to protect the girl, causing whatever harm he saw fit to do so.