Silvertip Mountain all that glitters is gold

i'm fine on my own. something he had told himself, what, ten, twenty, a hundred times in his lifetime? wandering from place to place, up and down the coast, only joining bands of wolves when he was starving. he had survived, true, and had been fine, but he had never been finer than how he was now. . .with a set home, and a family. a duty. someone, something, to live for.

"i've spent a lot of my life alone," he answered, smiling at this blue spit of a she-wolf, so clearly and fiercely independent. "it has its merits.

"i have a family, a pack, down this mountain to the east. i joined them at the beginning of august. they. . .adopted me, in a way." he grinned at the memory of pema and dawn bringing him to grayday, like pups bringing a toy to their sitter.

that brought to mind the plateau-scent that clung to her pelt once more, and he added, "you smell of my home. have you been nearby, recently?"