He watched her for a long while as she sat alone on the ridge. She seemed to peer out at the sea for one reason or another, captivated by the color, the texture, or smell. The wind pushed and pulled her fur alongside her body, the deep black contrasted to the glint of light touching it. The sun was warm, granting warmth in those that stood within the light, and Logan merely watched her, content, from a distance. The only things upon her that seemed out of palace were the scars, the bandage, and the mark carved into her flesh. He huffed, looking at them, wishing he could erase away the mistakes, perhaps even, the regrets, but formalities aside, all he could do was push it aside and hope she saw what was inside. Saw what he loved beneath the fur and flesh, the spirit he cared for, felt a fire for, and wished and hoped would continue to dream out over the ocean, to the Outriders lands, and throughout them in entirety.

Logan was quiet, leaning back, resting his weight against a nearby birch that had succumb to the weight of either the wind or snow from the passed winter season. It bent over, arching over the nearby underbrush, creating a cover, a protective barrier, of white, purity, wholeness. It is what he wished to be for her: guardian, lover, friend. Watcher even mores, to watch and learn by no words necessary, although they could be passed. BUt by her posture, eyes, ears, hackles, he could read her and understand. It was not always spoken, not a verbal understanding, but slant, and in that, there was key, and a key to the future of the two of them. Shifting his weight he watched her still, and he was still, like the pines that stood as watchers themselves caring for the land around them. The eldest of the trees towered so high and it was a wonder that they had not come crashing down with the heavy gusts that could sometimes plague the shore land area.

Sighing he crept through the underbrush, just slightly so, burrs sticking to his fur and he grimaced. He'd need to get them out later, and it was never a fun occurrence. They were like parasites that burrowed into fur. He sighed and inched forward, the little buggers. He couldn't wait for snow, this was one reason why. Bright eyes focused back onto the dark female, and he smiled, fur bristling as he was settling down onto the cold ground, letting his temperature even out. He enjoyed the cool, but sometimes it was jarring. He hoped, with how thing she was, it would not create a problem for her, her survival, or her comfort on the wounded leg. It seemed to never get better, only perpetually be a problem. A nuisance, and he wished he could fix it for her.

She looked out to the sea with a thirst, a fervor in her heart and a desire for something more, something, prominent in her life that could change things. Something that would cause her to have a want to run, jump, play. Logan, was one reason, but, as selfish as it sounded, she wanted more, and she did not know the cause. The drop in temperature had spurred something within her, and she was concerned. She had never felt such a fervent urge in her before, such a fire, a warmth, but it lingered and seemed to take control of her mind, her conscious, it was why she had come here today. To try and regain control, to try and focus and find herself in the overwhelming emotions that onslaught her body. Her spirit remained strong, but that was not what bothered her.

Dragonsrage looked to the sea, the undulating waves and closed her eyes, the scent and sound felt like the rippling effect of emotions and blood in her. Her blood rushed through her veins, kept her warm, gave her life, and like the sea, was constantly moving. It was what it was, and nothing could change that. She took a deep breath, tasting the salt on her tongue, and she suddenly felt tired, tired of restraint, tired of not knowing what a normal pack life was like, not knowing what a real family life was like. All her life, it seemed, she had been restricted, and it seemed like the only thing holding her back now, was herself. She snapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth and licked her lips, her jowls, and her maw was left open slightly to pant and breath in the salt on the wind. She smiled, feeling it tingle against her lips, her gums, her fangs seeming to glow white in the sun's light.

Her fur coat was already beginning to change. As the temperature became lower, her sense became peaked, the undercoat, becoming thick, warm. Soon she would not need to have the need to bring extra brush into a tucking space under a log or nestled in some tree roots. Although, she thought, smiling, closing her eyes, Logan's side kept her warm, and for that she was glad. She almost wished to call out for him then, but as the wind graced her nose she quirked a brow, content and curious at once. He was nearby, watching again. The sun and moon, not far from one another, always in balance, always pushing and pulling creating balance in the world, balance here.

She knew he lingered closely, but did not want to have the silence interrupted. The silence was a defining sound, and she enjoyed it. Her sense of hearing was able to hear the waves below and listen to the tiny shell fragments graze against rock and stone. Birds called nearby, and her stomach began to rumble, she would need to eat soon, that she could not help, but she knew, Logan would help.

Without notice or words, Logan rose to his paws, noticing her ears twitch at his sounds and went into the forest. By now, the herds had moved a little to the south from the territory, but still within the borders. There was a lot of small game which was easy to find, but not quite so easy to catch. He contemplated, then, what would be the best strategy. Could he just hope for the best, look for a small creature's den and wait? No, he didn't want to take a life right outside the home, what kind of example would that set, mores, what would that do for any that resided there, scared off never to return. He would ruin a food source, a source he needed to keep alive for Dragonsrage. He wanted to keep her well, fed, and warm. He stalked in the forest, large paws keeping him quiet though the wind kept rustling the trees. The salty scent had coated most of the forest near the shoreline where the overlook was, and he grimaced, licking his lips. He himself could taste the salt as well as it assaulted his nostrils, tongue, senses, and he went onward.

Soon enough he came across a scent, fleeting, but it was there. He tilted his head and crept to the ground, belly just above the earth, his ears forward, back arched, and he was still. Hi body, still, breath, slight, and he watched for opportunity. He was large, bulky, but he could stalk as well as any other wolf within the territory, any other wolf within the lands itself far or wide, that, he was sure.

Without warning, a small rabbit took off in the underbrush and Logan was off. His muscles pushed him, his keel chest, propelling him through the underbrush. His paws, large and thick on the ground gave him the necessary traction to keep up, keep running on and on until he was so close he could see the rabbit's back legs moving, launching itself forward. Soon enough, it darted into a hole, and LOgan was panting. However, he was next to a stream that ran off down into the shoreline, and he went to the edge and peered in. He saw some striped fish, spotted, and various small ones. His paws, splayed, webbed, were for snow but were also excellent for the water.

Soon he was trotting back to the overlook with a fish in maw for Dragonsrage.

She heard him coming, and could smell the faint call of blood. As he emerged from the woods, his eyes shone, a smile in them, bright in the sun. He was her sun, and she rose a little bit to greet him as he came close. He dropped the fish before her, and she looked to it, to him, and nuzzled her nose against his. Dragonsrage's stomach growled again, and he chuckled and nudged her to eat. She closed her eyes and breathed it all in, the surroundings, the fish, him, and she was content.

For their future, she thought, for the family that they were together, sun and moon.

Perhaps, the feeling inside herself, meant that something was coming, and she smirked at him, perhaps, she wondered, they needed stars...

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