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"It's not me you have to prove anything to." Auberon shakes himself vigorously. "Is it? We're not talking about you chalenging someone for rank here. We're talking about you breaking off from your pack, hunting, finding shelter, and living on your own. Which means knowing the rules of pack and lone life. Including..." He quirks an amused look. "Staying out of other peoples territory. Or at least skirting the fringes. No matter how much it adds to your trip. It's in our blood to feel the call of a pack. I'll proably settle to one no matter what my gripes now, or become the monster every pack for miles thinks I probaly am." He yawns languidly.

"Do you always live your life based on what someone else thinks you can and can't do?" Auberon chalenges, as he moves to go past her. "I can go? I'm honored that you've let me pass unscathed!" He still feels a bit caustic after the trade of insults, although he winces slightly at the sound of his own words. "Being in a pack is supposed to be "Home". If it isn't "Home...what is it?" He calls back. "Think about that before you make any crazy desisions, Daughter of War."

Auberon looks back as she runs up behind him, jaws lolling in the wolf equivalent of a grin.
"We'll, vanishing with an strange wolf will certainly prove if they know you're alive or not. Tell you what...YOU do the talking when they come for my Hide, Warchild." His tail wags in amusement. "Follow if you want, but it's not easy out here."

"Well having the right skills certainly doesn't hurt either, Daugter of War." Auberon continues to look amused, perhaps even more so. "You can't exactly beleive a rabbit or a deer to death." He chuckles. "You can hunt right?"

"I heard you the first time." Auberon shrugs, walking head high, examinging the surroundings. "But you sound more like a "Daughter of War" than a Realin. Unless there's a war spirits daughter by that name I haven't heard of." He bumps her with his shoulder again, pretty clearly on purpose, as though to drive home the humor of the situation. "Besides how am I supposed to automaticly know you can hunt. I'm not a seer. I can't just go fishing for this sort of information."

"Call me Abby and I'll call you "Beaver", since you're the one who chewed on the tree..." He warns, without missing a step. "Auberon was an powerful alpha across the ocean. One of my ansestors brought the story when he came over with the trappers." He's proud of his name, and the story behind it, which shows as his tail shifts to a somewhat more dominant pose.

"I gave my patience with being cute when I lost my milk teeth." Auberon notes. "Cute is for puppies." He catches her looking back when he turns to look at her when he finishes his statement. "I'm not forcing you to come. And I'm not forcing you to go anyplace without a word." He says cooly. "If there's something you want back there, go. If you insist, I'll sit and wait." He sits down in the snow with a level blink of deep reddish eyes. "I'm not on an tight time schedule here."