Vincent sighed as he stepped back into the densely packed, yet fairly quiet Wildwing Park. There were few, if any fences, though many of the houses were actually stationary trailers. There were, however, many children, several of whom ran to see him as soon as they caught sight of him. He smirked slightly, leaving it to the pups to keep him from dwelling too hard at first.
As Jester, his main duties were making the pack laugh as well as keeping the peace. A good deal of that included taking care of the children, which he loved to do. He found himself deeply engrossed in their games of make-believe and tag. At least until it was definitely time for bed, leaving him to his thoughts once again.
He walked around the “Park", glancing away whenever he saw judging eyes stare at him. He was confused by the feelings stirring inside.
Never, in his short life, had he ever experienced attraction to anyone; not even his best friend could claim his interest, for all the years they knew each other. Yet, for some reason, this rival wolf whom he should despise, he found himself indelibly drawn to.
He remembered as a young pup, maybe the same age as the ones he looked after, scoffing at the notion of a “Fated" Mate. His destiny was his own, and if he was going to have a relationship at all, it would be of his choosing!
Still, he could not deny what he felt, nor the thought that it hurt him somewhere deep inside to consider that Tallow may actually hate him without knowing him.
Speaking of hate, Vincent grimaced inwardly as he saw one of the pack bullies approaching him. There was a distinctly ugly and smug look on his face, as if he knew something Vincent did not. Still, that was normal; what wasn't normal was the hints of envy that he could see in Greg's face. That worried him, for he couldn't imagine what the other could possibly be envious of.
“Hey, Joker," Greg sneered with hate, knowing that Vincent found the other word for Jester to be somewhat offensive. Greg continued with laughter in his voice, knowing that his words weren't true, “I hear you got the pack in trouble tonight. Something about attacking the Kingston heir. You better be careful or you might find yourself stripped of your rank."
That last line made Vincent snap and swing his fist at Greg violently. The other found himself on the ground, surprised that the lowest ranked member had actually struck him.
They didn't have time for much more than that, because both were dragged off by the nearby patrol they had failed to notice. They were then deposited in front of the second-in-command, who did not look happy to see either of them.
“Right, I am thoroughly sick of seeing you two in my office. Greg, seeing as you don't have a human life to maintain, you're restricted to your house until further notice. Vincent, you are to go to work and come home. Maybe a few weeks without the library will cool you off," the second's voice was harsh and his words final. Vincent whined at the back of his throat but knew a dismissal when he heard it. He left Greg to argue, heading for his house.
He closed his door behind him, then slid down it with frustration. He was angry at himself for allowing Greg to rile him. He was also pissed beyond reason at the punishment.
The library was his one escape from his life, as it allowed him to spend time with his best friend. She was an avid reader and went to the library every day. He had no idea how he was going to explain his grounding to her in the morning.
Sighing deep in his throat, he got back up from the floor and made himself dinner. He then did his nightly routine and headed for bed. Grabbing a book off the nightstand, he tried to distract himself enough that he could easily fall asleep. It wasn't to be, however, as his thoughts were spinning from one side to another, all in the space of an hour or two.
His main thoughts were on the legends of the Fated Mates and how it would affect him. For example, how did his leader know that was the sign? What would happen to him if he denied the bond? Why did it have to happen with a rival pack of all things? These were all questions the young man had no answers for. He decided that he needed to see the pack's historian after work tomorrow.
He sighed, wishing that he could talk to his friend currently. She was, however, human and it was forbidden for shifters to reveal themselves to the mundane. It was a pity too, because she wasn't bad looking. Long, black hair with chocolate brown eyes; he had always had a thing for brown eyes ever since he could remember. He also had been friends with her for as long as he could remember, something he sometimes suspected might be connected.
Grunting, he put the book on the nightstand and turned out the light. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, especially if another territory fight broke out between the two packs. He was tired of the fighting but then, he was also tired in general.
He decided that it would be a good idea just to sleep, so he closed his eyes and did, leaving his problems for the morning to deal with.