"You've been entrusted to patrol the outskirts. Idan, disenchanted as one could be, determined that you, sir, might be a more promising soul at this very duty,"—A brownish canine uttered.
Dagrun, basking in the mere veins of sunlight, etched a trifling grin. "Ah, of course. You're informing me that, Nilas, is terrible at his task, is that it? Hmph, how unfortunate. Told him, Nilas is a rotten wolf for that status,"—Dagrun cooed, outstretching his limbs. "He's worth nothing."—He chimed, standing up.
It seemed, that Nilas, his more immature brother, was meddling within the ladies in the kingdom, once again. Forsook his status and determined to fulfill his entertainment than the safeness of his own dwelling. But, not that it mattered, for Dagrun, irresponsible of Nilas stunts, he had no will than to settle with the given duty, exhibit the alphas that he was more advantageous than the ineffective brother he has.
Dagrun, rather, sentimental, never saw excitement fascinating, couldn't discern leisure, comprehend that optimistic sentiment. It made him feel gauche, strange, and dwelling without it for so long, he couldn't picture how he'd respond to it now. Like hot and cold, Nilas and Dagrun, were significantly dissimilar. Brothers, that never got along, even during birth; one had to wrestle and grumble for something ridiculous.
But, his thoughts were provoked.
"Oi, why're takin' over my chore?"—A white brute, with a whiny huff, arose from the shaggy thickets and barreled into the black one, Dagrun.
And staggered out of his feet, Dagrun emitted a snarl. "You dunce. Your infantile jokes were the causality of this. Should've remained in the camp and this task would've been yours. I have to bear your burdens because nobody else will."—Dagrun spat and craned his lofty physique so that Nilas could see his peeved countenance better.
But Nilas dazed and wordless, grumbled a scoff as Dagrun melted into the stretch, dispersed in the unruly copses, and faded out of Nilas eyesight. "What an old man,"—Nilas thought, as he leisurely withdrew from the copses and back to the camp.
Maybe, the tranquil ambiance will subdue Dagrun's nuisance.
Winter 
Night Weather: 
Fog Moon: 
