3/5
He had traveled the length of the ravine until it ran slow-moving and shallow. The days were beginning to grow shorter and the staunched heat of summer had begun to abate. Even still, life as a lone male was no walk in the park. He missed the shelter of the willows entirely, unwilling to travel the length of the marshlands any longer, but had been lucky enough to come across Raven's Watch.
It was a sheltered, lush little outcrop accentuated by a cascading waterfall fed from the mountains he would surely soon have to cross. For now, after nearly a week of constant travel, he would allow himself to rest. His pelt was slicked down by mud and coated in burrs, so he strode into the river and began to groom himself of the marsh-filth that coated him.
Thank you for joining!
Tsiokwaris was many things. He could be accused of being cold and unfeeling and silent like stone. He was
not rude; at least, not on purpose, and even if he had a liking to the outrider would find it difficult to ignore the disposed patriarch's silent approach. Chieftain pulled his face from a mat between his shoulderblades that he could not quite reach and lifted his dusky gaze to the northerner before him. They were an equal match, pound-for-pound, but the other man's pelt was bright against the rocky landmass that surrounded them. His roving legs were well-muscled and long. There was a crimson smear upon his right shoulder that clarified into a pawprint as the stranger drew closer.
It reminded him of home. It brought forth the reminder that the Land of Ten Thousand Smokes was home no more. Belatedly he cleared his throat and rumbled,
Hail.
He sniffed the air between them and caught notes of weakened packscent upon the man. How many individuals he could not say, but he knew it to be far less than others he had encountered.
The other male's question was not uncalled for or even hostile, but the outrider was wary of his intentions. Was his pack near here, and they were territorial over the lands near their claim? Passing through. And you?