Meanwhile, Ezra hated it. Surely, by now his body had plenty well adapted to the mountain range that was much further south from where he had grown up. However, during the summer months , Ezra still found himself doing his best to cling to the high reaches of the Mistveil mountains where he might find respite from the oppressive heavy moisture in the heated air below. A luxury which he could not afford now, given the fact that his pups had a den further down the peaks where it was flat and safer and the extra work load mint , he could not limit himself to only the highest elevations of their home if he were to be successfully scouring for intruders in their territory.

He kept his irritation of the weather to himself however and found himself quietly swaggering along with his limped walk at the flank of Saga. So much so perhaps she was focused on simply being able to walk straight that Saga didn't notice Ezra coming up to her, causing the flood of hackles, a flash of teeth, an odd noise in her throat and the scampering about to the side as she tried to dart away from him. He froze. His body tensed. His own tackles raising along with his tail and his mouth twitched, eyes hardened. It might have even easily been mistaken for annoyance of her, but if was not. It was…. Jaxxon . It was Nyra. How horribly so did they fail her now, where vengeance had yet to be sought. Not even a single hunting party called to hunt down those who aligned themselves with Joxer. Saga might have deserved Joxer's head for display and pelt on her den floor, yet she received nothing.

Sorry. Came his own apology under a murmur of breath and he found himself casting his own bloodied red gaze aside and on to the forest floor near her peachy burned paws. He wondered if those burns came from the forest fires years back when he was just a pup and his mother had him and his siblings skirt around the blazes on their way to visit Jakten their uncles for the first time. Once, when the brothers were one. It may always… He frowned and found himself now looking to his own front foot of the leg which still he limped on. The pain seemed to come and go at will, the strength would never be the same as the other three. Still, since Amunet, he had placed his addiction in herbal treatments instead onto her it seemed.