Ankyra Sound rule number four, gotta be lookin' pure

It was not long before the ashen brute was joined by a golden cloaked woman. Her sharp eyes roamed over his figure for a moment before she too settled on the stranger at the borders. Kierkegaard did not attempt to provide communication with his pack mate; it wasn't the time for small talk, and he had never been good at it. Instead, he turned back to reflect on the vibrant-eyed young girl who seemed to be posing an answer to his inquiry. A fresh start seemed to be what she was looking for. Shortly after she had finished her response, another body had joined the party. His molten gaze turned to her and he lowered his skull to the female who had been elected as their leader. He imagined that she would want to take over the interaction from there.

Drawing back to the stranger, now introduced as Witchbaby, Kierkegaard caught a glimpse of her amorous display toward the golden woman. He was surprised at the brazen spectacle, and so he snorted curtly at Witchbaby and then swung his head toward Wylla. “She's looking for a fresh start,” he grunted to her, not certain that she had heard the reasoning when she had arrived on scene. Surely, a fresh start could be applied upon acceptance, but the mercenary had a feeling that Wylla might ask for a demonstration of skill before allowing the newcomer into their lands. Nevertheless, it was not his place and he cast an inquisitive look to the dark-furred woman.