As quickly as he had become a Warrior, he was now a Delta. It felt strange to hold such a title, though nonetheless he was not any less appreciative for the opportunity. Frankly, it was more than he could have ever wished to achieve. When he had first come to Erenyx’s borders, he had been more than proud to take on a subordinate’s name. He had never dreamed of being a leader, or having any true essence of power under his paw alone. But this was different. He was earning a name for himself here. Before, it had simply been offered to him on a silver platter, and none had expected him to refuse. All he had ever wanted was the chance to prove himself. Nothing else had mattered as much. It wasn’t even the fact of proving himself to somebody in particular. He wanted to know, see it for his own eyes, that he had some worth beyond inheriting an old family's crown.

But he had never expected so many changes to occur right beneath his nose. His life no longer revolved around being the best addition that he could be. Of course, that was still the majority of his purpose. But now there was a female in the picture, and his thoughts wandered to her often. It happened most frequently when he was alone, or when he was trying not to think at all. It seemed as though she inhabited the parts of his brain that he had never bothered to control. He was oblivious to what it could possibly mean. All he knew was that he was beginning to feel increasingly tainted. It was if there was a hole in his body when she was not around. The idea that she could be gone as quickly as she was there frightened him, but he hadn’t even managed to admit that to himself yet.

On the outside, one would never guess that his mind was constantly afloat with a variety of scattered thoughts, ideas, and concepts. He was an unbelievably graceful male. He maneuvered as though his body was made of silk, flowing effortlessly - his steps were never short of perfection. Perhaps that was why he had been crowned such a supreme fighter through the eyes of his Alpha. He did not fight with the essence of brutality upon his sleeve. He was technical, a masterful observer, and a quick-witted opponent. But he had never been one for fighting without reason. Despite his cold demeanour and his uncanny way of being constantly isolated. . . he wasn’t so bad when you got the chance to know him. He simply preferred actions over words. It could take a while for him to warm up to you, or for him to even consider lowering his guard, but it wasn’t impossible.

At least, he didn’t think so anyway.

He leaped from rock-to-rock with practiced ease, possessing no care for the deadly drop that waited patiently to greet him just lengths to his left. Occasionally, he spared a thoughtful glance down the cliffside, but he was otherwise uninterested. The prospect of death did not frighten him as much as it likely should have. There was nothing scary about dieing - it happened when it was meant to happen. Should his quick and agile momentum prove to be a mistake, than he would pay dearly for his miscalculations. But until such a thing occurred, he had no intentions of stopping. Fog whipped around him endlessly, scorched with the frostbitten tinges of perpetually falling snow. His path was slightly blurred, but he had a generalized idea as to where he was going. He had traveled this very path enough times prior to understand where the most threatening crooks and crannies lay disguised amongst the rocks, waiting to snag his paws from under him to send him tumbling down to his demise. Therefore, his mind was nothing if not at ease. He planned on taking advantage of this solitude. Nobody was around to disturb him; pity such peace and quiet did not have a tendency to remain.