It wasn't a big deal if he was always late at least five minutes, right? Wasn't that a perk for being the best? His arrogance hovered in the cloudy air he breathed out. It was cold, too. So everybody would understand if the snow dragged his feet at least a tad bit. His green eyes looked down at his paws as they - without any sense of urgency - crumpled over the snow one after the other. I mean, what else is there to being the best? Are brownie points all there really is to all this work? A pang from the void hit his chest.

Black eyes stared down at him, and the crow squawked from above. Scout Superior Limavady snapped out of it. Oh no. How long had he been standing there? 5 minutes? 30? One glance at the orange, sinking sun told him it had certainly moved a whisker or two, so he set off in a sprint to accompany his squad.

"Sorry," He let out a chuckle. "I fell in some snow..."

She had him there. Shrugging, he walked on. "Keep it going. We've got some ground to cover and I'm keen on keeping my toes."

The brown & black striped Angora silently agreed with her, but wouldn't let himself complain. He had half-expected her to chastise him like his sister Lakota would have been sure to do. Deep down he had braced for sudden impact - a good smack over the ears - to pay for his tardiness. When it did not come, he was relieved. But this was Punk he was dealing with, after all. She wasn't as interested in controlling him as his sister was. Punk was a vigilant exterminator, a worthy rival to Limavady, despite rank or label. He thought of her as an equal and often prepared to rival her at any humble chance he could get. When she sped past him, he watched as her tail nearly swiped his nose, then trotted to catch up with her.

Wisps of carbon dioxide filtered out of his chest and trailed behind him as they briskly trudged through the forest. The snow was ankle-high, the weather was overcast. He was thankful for the fur he had, but craved the company of others down below. Post Kilo was where everyone could hole up in comfortably and tell stories. In winter caked days such as this, every warm body was as necessary for the tykes as it was to catch prey for them to eat. The hemlock trees were still frosted despite the sun having shown itself earlier in the day. He came to a slow stop, finding footprints in the otherwise blank sheet.

A big sigh to billowed out of him as he looked down at the feline tracks. Loners were typically a nuisance, but deep down he envied them. They could go wherever they wanted whenever they wanted without rules or restriction. Perhaps there was strength in numbers, but it couldn't compare to the freedom of being completely set loose of the opinions and obligations that leading a clan required. Perhaps Limavady was growing tired of being a Scout Superior, perhaps being great at what you love to do and setting yourself on a pedestal for it made it less enjoyable. He followed the faint scent of the loner with Punk. The forest was quiet. Birds had flown south for the winter, and prey kept themselves cooped up.

His tall Angora ears pricked up on alert; he had no idea who they were going to be dealing with, so his footsteps were cautious. It was impossible to tell were sticks and stones lay with all the snow. His feet were beginning to sting from the cold, so he shook them every now and then as they pressed on.

"Hmm." He contemplated calling it quits on the pursuit. It was cold, and in case the intruder was hostile, Limavady felt the need to keep a low profile without a Mercenary with them. He felt capable, but he wasn't as robust or hefty like Leviathan was. It caused him to worry as he did with any intruder, but he didn't feel it was as big of a deal, in comparison with others, to allow loners to roam the top!soil while most of The Regiment hid underground anyway.

"I just want to check if they have prey." He nodded with his decision. He couldn't care what loners were doing unless they were taking his mince meat. They would have to fight tooth and claw over every scrap this winter, and that's all the Scout Superior really cared for.

Limavady was curious of the loner. Who was he, and what was he doing here? "Perhaps we should follow him, see where he's off to. I don't like the idea of strangers coming and going when they please with Foxstar out running a muck... If he heads northeast, I might have to rip his throat out."