The dark stranger had sparked his attention with his resounding call – Constantine had been surveying the borders as it was, and so it took him only moments to come upon the stranger. He was a large man, but the slump of his shoulders and muzzle smoothed the initial hesitation in the swarthy Mayfair’s step, and ushering a low bark, he began to close the distance between the two.
His own tail waved proudly behind him, curling upward like a banner while his fiery eyes scoured the form of the other.
“Welcome,” he finally greeted, breaking the silence between the two beasts.
“What brings you to Swiftcurrent Creek?”
A bear had driven the wolf from his home – Constantine considered this, as well as the question that came next. The question brought to the forefront of his mind was one more personal than he usually asked – but there sudden departure of a few wolves who had claimed to be loyal left a bitter taste in his mouth, and so his eyes skimmed over the other, his own muzzle tipping slightly. “And what happened to the others in your previous pack with the bear? Where are they now?”
Why had he left them behind under such dire circumstances?
The reasoning was sound enough – if not unfortunate for the wolf before him. He gave a small nod, though his eyes drifted lazily over the dark wolf before him. “We value loyalty here. We seek to be a familial unit. We have room for you if that is something you feel you will contribute to.” One ear flickered as his thoughts continued. “I’m Constantine.”
“Herr,” he repeated, his tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth in quiet consideration. “What does that mean?” He was familiar with a few languages – but this was one he had never heard before, nor was the accent familiar to him.
Giving a nod to the direction of the creek lands, the chocolate wolf initiated the pace for a walk, his stocky form looking to brush against Mahler’s in pack companionship – leaving his scent upon him so the others would not question him.