Stavanger Bay 8 dogs 8 banjos (Optional Packtivity)

Wolves are still welcome to trickle in. Post order does not matter at this point, but please only post once per 24-hours. There are no set rules to den nights, so feel free to have them talk amongst themselves or suddenly start playing/sparring or anything like that. Drama also welcome. Enjoy.

The night was certainly ripe for it - the winds were only just changing, and the heat was still in the sand but already quickly cooling. Atoll laid on her belly to absorb the last vestiges of the sand's warmth, shivering a tiny bit as a chill breeze ruffled her fur.

Murgash was the first to arrive, already seeming to know the convention of such nights. She invited his nearness, and panted her approval of her jovial manner. Before she could answer him, sweet Lagertha slipped out of the night, and Atoll stretched to neck to nose affectionately at the other woman. Not even the appearance of Riptide could dull her spirits, now - all were welcome to den nights. There were no exceptions.

Atoll was saddened to see that none from Donnelaith had yet appeared, but the night was still young, and there would be many more no-moon nights in which to partake.

"Tonight is the dark of the moon,"  she said without preamble, pausing to clean crusty sand off of Quill's nose as she drew near. "Where I was born, it was a time to be together under the stars - we would share stories, and song and dance. So - who will tell a story? Who will remind us what it means to be a pack?"

If no one volunteered, Atoll has many to share. She was interested, however, to hear of her packmate's history, or whatever tales the could weave in lieu of that.