Lost in Thought [Border Patrol]

Gravy trotted with some purpose towards Etmos Fields. It had been a while since he'd touched the lands of light again, or any of the realms, for that matter. He'd been on the run for what felt like a full season, if not longer, and the toll it was taking on him was beginning to show. His fur was thinning and the frame of his skeleton was just starting to poke through his waning muscles. Despite all the galloping he'd been doing, the lifestyle he'd chosen wasn't treating him well.

He spotted a leopard on approach and went on alert instantly, taking a moment to recognize her as the same one from his last time here. Nostrils flared as he stepped towards her, pausing a respectful distance away. He wasn't sure what to say. He almost didn't even know what he was doing here, or, rather, that's what he kept telling himself.

"Hello," he finally mumbled after a few moments spent staring over her shoulder, not even meeting her eyes. His head was lowered in a mixture of defense and submission, as well as half-hidden shame. He remembered their last meeting hadn't gone too well, and, although some time had passed, he didn't know if she was too keen on seeing him. He flicked his ears, searching for signs of the kingdom's other members.

A black figure approached, streaking through the long grass. Gravy snorted and pulled back his head, recognizing the wolf that had insisted on healing him. He furrowed his brow and folded his ears at her words. He wasn't afraid of a wolf, especially not after having to deal with that lion. Then again, she would have the leopard to back her up...regardless, a fight was the last thing he wanted.

He almost turned away, ready to throw away his idea after such an aggressive greeting, but he managed to hold himself firm.

"I wanted to offer my services," he grunted, grinding his teeth as he resisted adding in a retort to the wolf's rude hello. His eyes flicked between the leopard and the wolf, focusing on the leopard. "You said before you know the lion I spoke of. How evil and cruel he could be. Let me protect your lands. I don't want to live my life running from him, but I can't face him alone." There was a great sincerity in his voice, and a clear strain; it was hard for him to admit that fact.

Gravy snorted. He didn't like taking orders or advice---anything, really---from carnivores, but he'd been the one to come here, after all. If he'd known of a herd, he'd have gone to them instead, but as things stood this was the only kingdom he knew about that held something against the white lion, although he didn't know why or how far they were actually willing to go. The wolf didn't seem to flinch at his implication, however.

"Whatever you call me, I don't care," he said, "so long as there'll be backup if the white lion comes around. But if your kingdom would rather flee, then you won't be seeing me anymore."

With his piece said, he flicked his tail and lowered his head submissively, to try and show he truly meant no harm. Getting rid of the white lion was at the forefront of his mind at the moment, though he didn't intend to chase him down---not yet, at any rate. Having allies at his back and safe lands to roam were more than just a bonus, but a necessity if he was to get his full strength back. Perhaps he would find new purpose here, as he was hoping, but he feared the kingdom may be too soft. He'd been too blind with panic to see that night he'd first come, but on reflection very few of those who'd come looked ready for a fight.

"May I come in now?" Gravy asked, toeing the border.

Nodding to the wolf, Gravy finally stepped over the border, his first that had actually been granted to him. Then he stopped, startled when the wolf asked if he knew how to fight.

"O-of course I can fight!" he sputtered, clearly a bit miffed that the wolf had even asked, although his tone might reveal more than simple indignation. He was frustrated with the failure of his last battle, and embarrassed by his desperation to flee afterwards. If there had been any other way...perhaps he should have died trying. Too late now.

He flicked his ears and arched his neck proudly, trying not to let it show that, if things had not gone otherwise, he'd actually still be in training under his father. To further prove his point, he flashed the long scar along his flanks that the white lion had given him on his escape, despite not being particularly proud of it himself.

"I was a bounty hunter," he said, wincing when a bit of the truth leaked through. He'd never been good at bluffing, vital as that could at times be with the job. Quickly he added, "Where I come from."

He gave the wolf a long look, more than the glances he'd been giving her before, and took note of the scars draped over her body. He wasn't sure whether to take them as battle scars or something else, given her prior proclamation of being a healer. She was still a carnivore, and she had threatened him...several times. Although he'd only taken the poison treat seriously, and as that memory reflected back to him, he reminded himself to keep one eye open at night until he was sure he could trust the people of this land.

"How many fights have you been in?" Gravy continued, turning the questions on the wolf. He lowered his head to look her in the eye.