It was typical for Miran to do a border check personally every week, once a week. Several of the younger men would keep patrolling, reporting to Lucian if anything was wrong.
Lucian watched Miran gear up, taking a tool box and water packing a small bag.
"Where are you going?" He inquired edging closer.
Miran shrugged. "Border patrol."
"Since when do you do border Patrol on Tuesday? It's Tuesday."
"I...am aware it's Tuesday. I also own a calendar."
Lucian grumbled but said nothing else in protest. Miran had taken him in and raised him from a week old after he was abandoned on the pack line. He worried for the stoic man, because all though he had no one, he cared for everyone. And though the people he took care of adored him for it, Miran didn't seem to understand or grasp that he was loved.
With war raging in other packs, and edging closer, Lucian had been pleading with him fight, let the pack protect itself and get involved in the war. Miran refused. He thought it pointless. He thought everything pointless save his duty to the pack.
Lucian watched Miran from the window as he ventured toward the border. Young pups enjoyed playing on Miran property, and he didn't mind them at all, letting them frolick and shout, and ordering some of the workers to bring them food and water.
They stopped as he stepped out.
"Alpha Miran," The group of boys called, dirt on their faces, grinning and waving frantically.
He paused. "Is that young pups I see? Your mother's know you're here?"
"Of course Alpha! Can we stay longer?"
Miran nodded, ruffling each of their hair as he passed. "Get home before dinner, hm?"
Their laughter erupted as they continued playing, rough housing in the tall grass no doubt to the ire of their parents who'd have to get the grass stains out of their clothes later. He smiled softly to himself. He enjoyed music, but nothing filled silence better than children's laughter.
He kept a brisk pace. He'd been busy, getting reports on the war, so it had been a week since he'd gotten out to the border. To her. He'd hoped she hadn't starved to death, but he wasn't sure. His tools clanked his bag, the summer breeze lifting his hair and cooling him off. He inhaled deeply. It was a nice day. Not too humid. Good for gardening.
The house came into view looking a little better than when he'd left it. He assumed she'd done some work of her own.
He knocked on the door, sighing when the screen fell out of the door once more. He perked through it, finding Kira sheepishly standing there.
"You weren't gonna open the door were you?"
She grinned.
He rolled his eyes. "Your silence speaks volumes," he reached through the broken screen and unlocked the door, stepping inside.
"Weren't you just here, Alpha Miran?"
He grumbled, replacing the screen once more. "Lock doesn't do much good if half the door keeps falling out."
"No one really comes in but you..." she trailed.
She donned one of his shirts, oversized on her, brushing her knees. He set his tool bag down on the counter, and turned on the tap. He stared at the water, noting that at least it was clear.
"Have you eaten?" He asked stoutly, opening the refrigerator.
"There's this amazing invention called a phone," she called from behind him. "I know werewolves don't do too much with modern technology but—"
He stuck his hand in the freezer. It was definitely not cold enough.
"You don't have a phone anyway," he said, looking over his shoulder. "Even if I did care to call."
Kira scoffed.
There wasn't much in her refrigerator or freezer. And there was nothing growing in the garden. He doubted anyone even knew she was here, so the chances someone helped her were slim.
"Have you eaten?" He asked again? This time with an edge.
She waved her hand. "Rabbit stew."
His eyes pierced her as he searched her cupboards. "How many days ago was that?"
"I'm really fine. I told you, you don't have to—"
He slammed the refrigerator door and walked out. She blinked. She hasn't meant to make him upset, but at least he was gone.
She shrugged to herself and closed her eyes. Sleep took her, with nothing else to do, and no other distraction from the rumbling in her belly. Kira slept for in indeterminate amount of time before waking to the cursing of Miran, who, once again, had knocked the screen out of the door by opening it.
"That's next," he growled, setting a bag of groceries on the table. "Fucking piece of shit door."
Kira chuckled, covering her mouth.
Miran stocked her fridge, and did other tasks around the house. Kira opened the fridge as he worked in another room. He'd bought every food group, and a few seasonings. She took out an old pan, washing it throughly and making a soup with the ingredients. She found soup filling, and with the right ingredients, she make meals stretch with only a little.
"So...what were you planning to have for dinner."
She shrugged, stirring. "Sleep."
He leaned against the counter, his rolled his sleeves showing his veins flexing in displease, his arms crossed.
"I'm kidding," she defended herself with a grin.
"No you're not." He grumbles, looking away. "Your feet better?"
She nodded, grabbing a bowl. "Want some? It's the least I can do."
He shook his head.
She poured another healing healing into bowl. "Come on. I'll feel bad if I don't give you something in return."
He reached in his pocket, setting something on the counter. Silently, Miran walked away.
"Alpha?" She called.
"Next time you need something, call." Was his simple reply. "That's what you can do for me."
