we do what we must

What snow had fallen was washed away by the steady flow of rain. Bran remarked mentally upon this as his paw pads squished against the wet earth. The man made his way toward the border, with every intention of doing a casual patrol. He brought no one with him but would not be averse to any Elkshirians joining him. His vocals remained silent, however, and did not chuff out a request. If he had to do this alone, he would. No problem. No issue. If there was, he would call then.

This was set after the Jubilee. The meat was added to the cache. The winter months seemed less expansive as the whole kingdom prepared. He'd do his part later, and add more fallen prey. He'd also sort through old conquests and pluck the rotten out. However, he knew most of the others despite their lack of a hunter's rank did such a thing. It was second nature and welcomed. Sick prey led to sick wolves. Illness could very well ravish any community if allowed to go unchecked. Bran's nose flared briefly and he added his scent to the border.

He continued on, in easy silence until he heard a noise. Turning to it, he expected. The worse? Maybe. It could very well be another wolf of Elkshire. Nevertheless, he braced himself. He was close to the border and it could very well be a scuffle of some sort, making itself known to the man.

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“Do you often stiffen at the sound of footsteps?” The phantom's voice rumbled, metallic visionaries seeming to illuminate before his frame as he stepped out of the forests' dark depths. His eyes observed the other close, sensing some tension, though Hendrickson supposed he could've vocalized his entrance to prevent that.

He too had been heading to patrol the boarders, and to further intertwine his scent within the pack in the form of piss markings. If the man were to start anywhere in his journey of climbing the ranks it was best to begin in showing his paladinship -- as he was confident that guardianship would aid in them trusting a newer member. Yet it looked as though Hendrickson was beaten to it and in fashion he'd eye them from afar -- until he was eventually noticed.

“Hendrickson.” the Monarch greeted, a proper chuff was given after slowly approaching the man's side, before jutting some steps off to the side to begin marking some trees in silence. Not to far off from the man, though, as he expected to give a name in return...

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He found that to be a rhetorical question, so he did not answer it. Godbrand eyed the other one, a male he had never met or heard of. His fur relaxed once he realized they were Elkshirian. Not a stranger. Not a trespasser. The self-proclaimed Hendrickson came to his side briefly before walking off to add his scent to the line. Was it Bran's imagination, or did this one seem to think he was competing with the other Wayfarer?

"Godbrand."

He walked forward to add his own scent to the next 'block' of the border. He was not a petty person, and while he could have covered Hendrickson's scent, he chose not to. He supposed the other was new, though Elkshire had been kindly to him and even welcoming. Eager to share the kingdom. This man did not seem to. Even though Bran had a stick up his arse most times, this Hendrickson wafted with the ego of someone who assumed they were better.

At least Bran could be humble.

"You are new here" he remarked after a silence "what path do you wish to take?" Rank-wise, Bran did not know if he was Hunter or Paladin in simple terms. The Queen herself told him he could pursue other interests while holding a basic rank. This was good enough for him, but where would they eventually place him?

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