“There’s a river not far ahead, maybe another mile or so. It’s quite wide actually, I’m guessing it separates your land from another’s.” A pair of odd hued eyes gazed up lazily at the eagle soaring through the night sky, glad to know he had a pair of eyes up there. They’d been traveling around the borders of the large expanse that was the Obel territory ever since sundown, starting at where the coast, the unclaimed lands and his territory met and moving counter-clockwise down the western coast, then east along the border that separated his land from that of their southern neighbors, and finally moving north along the eastern coast. The Russian was parched and hadn’t had a good drink of water in a couple of hours and was glad to have his little friend in the sky to scout out water sources and changes in terrain.

“Thanks Khav,” the brute managed to mutter despite his barren throat as he began to pick up his pace. The bald eagle informed him earlier that they had covered majority of the perimeter of his lands and that they should make it back to the oasis sometime before noon. Sirien felt kind of bad for dragging his two pack members all around. Panting, he glanced at the two before saying, “alright, you two have all access passes to my diving board for the rest of the year. Feel free to use it at your leisure or even as a door each time you want to leave.” He was quite glad though that they were strong enough to endure the extended night out and was also thankful for the protein enriched meal that dropped from the sky to their doorstep.

After every one hundred or so yards, the alpha brute would stop momentarily and lift his leg before marking a boulder, dried up stump, or cactus. Marking cacti made the Russian slightly uncomfortable and he was sure to keep several extra inches of distance between himself and the spiky thorns and needles. I am sure as hell getting fed up with pissing on every damn thing I see. But the brute knew the importance of leaving his scent behind as markers for his territories and wasn’t about to quit now that he was over halfway done. Next time, this is going to be done on two separate days. Going at night was a wise choice though, for the two Russians would probably not have been able to cope well with the beating heat of the sun during the day.

The pain in his wounded shoulders began to grow more prevalent over the course of the night and more so within the last passed hour. Having traveled so far immediately after the wounds were inflicted began to take a toll on him. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that offer Glorfindel, when we get back to the dens I mean. My shoulders are killing me. Maybe we can find some herbs on our way back.” Glancing up at the skies once more, Sirien could see that Khav had traveled farther ahead and was getting a head start on that water. Lucky bird.

When the river came into sight, Sirien broke into a sprint before splashing near the shallow banks where the stronger currents couldn’t drag him under. As he drank, he could see clumps of fur being washed down river; hints of red, brown, and white. “Hey try to keep the river clean would ya? Your not the only one who drinks from it.” The somewhat deep and wise voice rang from nearby but did not phase the brute as he continued to drink. After a couple minutes, he pulled himself to the shore and rested on the softer and more nourished grasses near the bank.

Sighing in relief, the brute rolled onto his back, wincing slightly at the pain from the pressure of his weight on the wounds on top of his shoulders. The sky was still a rich dark blue, littered with the silvery specks of stars and brightened by the pale light of the moon. For now, the three member pack would rest a bit and rehydrate before setting off to mark the northern border and returning to their humble abode. From the corner of his green eye, the shadow of the large eagle was seen grazing over the river before he could hear the gentle rustle of leaves in a nearby acacia tree. “There’s no more water after this until we reach the mountains, so I’d suggest we all drink more before we head off again.”

Sirien merely nodded with his eyes shut as he lay there. Much had happened in the past day; his claiming of the land, the joining of two members and the fae’s intrusion, the scuffle with the cougar and the new bond made with the eagle. The brute was already to rest for the night, but knew that the heat of the next day would make him regret that decision if he extended their break. His thoughts began to wander momentarily and suddenly the image of an earthy hued brute came to mind. Sirien was very aware and sensitive to the presence of the other Russian, but put much effort into not saying anything stupid or embarrassing. If Glorfindel found out, I’d put all Russians to shame. The alpha was having a difficult time accepting the fact that he was attracted to another brute and was somewhat concerned of what those around him would think.

After their ‘hunt’ the trio decided it was best that Sirien, their alpha go mark the boarders of their land so no more accidents like that fae would happen. However, Arthur didn’t think it would require this much walking, in fact, he was ready to die by the time they got to the river for their break. His thin skinny legs where ready to give out under him, his knees bucked ever so slightly with each growing step. He was not built for such physical activities. He’d always hated physical activity, of any kind. This he could at lest remember, when he tried to remember what rank he carried in his former pack however his head gave an awful cry of pain. ‘Damnit…’ He cursed, he still couldn’t remember anything, bits and pieces here and there and an odd feeling of Déjà vu very now and again, but besides that, nothing.

He groaned mentally as his head ached, cursing his amnesia. Maybe it he was better off not remembering anything. ‘It’d keep me from the headache…’ He thought his orbs watching the Ethiopian and Russian who where quite a few good paces ahead of him. ‘Damnit, they’re going to think I’m a weakling.’ He thought irritated, as he picked up the pace, soon regretting it when a sudden stabbing pain took over his left side.

With his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, the green eyed brute caught up with the two at the river. He gave an exasperated twisted cry of relief. The Russian brute didn’t even care for he leaped into the crystal clear waters and rolled around in the shallow waters, soaking his fur to the bone, like Sirien clumps of fur dropped off his pelt and drifted down the river. Despite the bird’s distaste for their fur in the river, Arthur did indeed feel a lot better with less fur occupying his body.

Lapping up a few good gulps the brute treaded out of the water and shook his coat out, water and stay clumps of fur being freed from his pelt as he went ahead and started grooming his fur removing even more water and stray fur from his coat. A good thing about being his breed was he was adaptable to any climate, however Arthur found he might not like living in the desert as much as he’d originally thought. Judging for the length his pelt was originally he’d say he was form slightly colder lands. Maybe one with a moderate climate instead of a hotter one like Obel.

Sirien suggested they drink as much as they can and he groaned, but complied as he lapped up some more water. He drank as much as his stomach could hold until he felt like he could bust. Which was probably not the wisest of idea for now he didn’t feel like he could walk the long journey ahead… Not like he felt like he could walk it before, but now it was even more dreadful with his full stomach. He could feel the liquid’s movements within his stomach each time he moved, it was amusing for the most part but odd all the same and it would hinder him more when they started to journey once more. ‘Wonderful.’ He thought as his green orbs eyed the desert dweller and his alpha. He was slightly worried about Sirien’s injury, he would have suggested they look at it now but he seemed to insist they wait until they return to the dens. ‘I’m sure he’ll be alright, he is in fairly good shape…’ Art frowned and preyed his eyes away, ‘Damnit.’

Delta chuckled lightly at the antics of the Russians. He'd alligned himself with a pair of good natured brutes and was quite enjoying their company. Sure, they were both rather fluffy wolves which meant they'd need some time to adjust to the heat he loved so much, but they both seemed to be of strong mind and good heart. Glorfindel was quite glad the land of his preference had been taken over by such good brutes, for if it had not been he was quite sure he'd have been out of a home. The Ethiopian didn't even want to think about trying to live in any land where the wind blew colder than seventy degress Farenheit.

"There's probably a usefull native plant or two, but I've no idea what they'd be. Sorry I'm not better use, Cheif." A sheepish smile curved along his maw as he watched the two Russians emerge from the water. Their coats looked funny now that they were purged from some of the shedding fur, and it was hard for him to supress a laugh. Oh how different cold weather wolves were from desert ones. Though Glorfindel's own coat was known to shed, he mainly lost short strands that were neither noticable nor of much consequence. He didn't get the same wild warrior look that the other two were currently sporting.

As Sirien continued to talk, the Ethiopian brute rose to his feet and began to lap up one final drink. His ears were listening intently as he prepared his body for the final leg of the journey. For himself he wasn't expecting much trouble though. He was used to such a life. Of course he couldn't say the same for Art. The poor brute was so out of shape it wasn't funny. Hopefully he'd make it back with little trouble.

Finishing his drink, Delta gave a curt nod of his head and began to trot after his Alpha. Life in Obel was definately proving to be amusing thus far. Cougars, Eagles, and comical brutes. Life was definately good. Now if only he could do something useful so that he'd feel like he was pulling his own weight within the pack. Why oh why did the useful plantlife have to be so hard to find?

Arthion sat at the edge of the river scratching. Hard. With each scratch more fur flew off from his pelt. The more he scratched the more he itched and no matter he was still just as hot as he’d started. Standing up, the Russian brute shook his fur out and growled, frustrated. His ears perked up ever so slightly and his green hues turned back to Sirien as him and Delta spoke back and forth, with a flick of his ears he smiled slightly at the Russian brute whom he was proud to call his boss.

Then Sirien spoke of finishing up this part of the land and heading back towards the dens, ‘cause he didn’t want to spend the entire day out in the heat. ‘Agreed.’ He thought and scratched his ear. “Agreed, Boss.” He piped up as he scratched at his ear, watching more fur fly from his pelt from the corner of his eye. Frowning he stood once more and shook his coat out and huffed. It was now mostly even in some spots shorter than others. However for the most part his coat was a short to medium length. A suitable length for the desert he assumed. At lest for him it would be. He liked it here, for a couple reasons, and he could become accustom to the heat and was willing to tolerate it.

Arthur’s ears flicked slightly as they spoke of a certain type of plant they could use to find to help with Sirien’s injury. “I’m sure there’s…” The brute stopped in mid-sentence as he felt suddenly very dizzy. Blinking hard, the brute shook his head and tried to shake away the dizzy feeling he had and the blurry vision that kept creeping up on him. “I’m sure there is… Ahh.” He groaned as he tried to put his mind back on track but his world kept spinning and it was hard for him to focus.

Shaking his head again, the brute’s legs locked in place as he stood his ground to keep from falling as he felt he might. “Is some… herbs… around…” He forced the words out of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut and cranked the thoughts out of his brain, ignoring and pressing pass the dizziness. Soon, it was too much as he felt as if his blood was escaping him and suddenly, his paws slipped out from under him and with a final few words the brute slipped into unconsciousness. “Lairion…” And his body hit the desert ground with a soft thud, and the sound of a distant howl echoed in his head as he completely lost consciousness.

Delta trotted along silently, tall auds tuned into the sound of Sirien's voice. Though he had to walk faster in order to keep up, the extra exertion took relatively little toll on his body. He was fit as a fiddle after all. There was little Glorfindel could not do, or at least wouldn't try once. In truth, what he found most peculiar about this new desert he found himself in was that his pack-mates had thick coats of fur weighing them down. They just seemed so out of place in the barren landscape, unfit to blend in with blazing sand.

He listened with keen interest as he walked, curious about his alpha's thoughts and opinions. A small frown was on his maw, the idea of a hunting rank simply foreign to him. Hunting together must have been some fluffy wolf custom. Back home he'd been taught to fend for himself, his body perfectly content to live off of rabbits and snakes and other small mammals and reptiles.

His thoughts became voiced when a question was asked of him. With a nod of his head he rattled off exactly what he'd been pondering after Sirien finished. "The desert has always been my home, and my family did things quite differently from the way you seem to run things. Usually I'd hunt myself a rabbit or two, and the occasional meerkat. Snakes and lizards are nice too, though it's sometimes tricky to tell which patterns are poisonous. I'm guessing your feathered friend means birds are off limits. The waters seem good for fishing though, provided you know how to fish..." His voice trailed off with a light chuckle, sheepish smile turning his frown around. Delta didn't know how to fish, though he was not above learning. After a moment he added, "I've never quite paid much attention to the bigger game, but the lands here are a bit less desert than I'm used to so I'm sure there's plenty to eat."

They seemed to fall into silence after that, the alpha lost in his own thoughts. Delta too was distracted, having gone back to scrutinizing the landscape. Surely there was something around that would fire up his memory? Not every plant could be foreign... Suddenly the Ethiopian found himself turned around as Sirien darted though his vision in a mad dash. What was going on? He shook himself in an attempt to reground his mind, hoping to snap back into reality. After a few moments the alpha approached carrying their passed out pack-mate, his words a short explination of what happened. Delta nodded his understanding and turned to continue the journey, trailing behind slightly in case he needed to catch a slipping Arthur. His eyes also repeatedly scanned the landscape, looking for a decent sample of the one plant he knew was sure to help.