Since Stitch couldn't bear the thought of being desperate enough to eat another Frank (see: a seagull she'd made friends with when she was a small pup) she had moved on from the beach, quickly. Her journey carried her southwest, passing several packs — their border scents wafting on the wind met with no resistance as it was by the spindly, grasping and skeletal limbs of the trees and foliage of the Wilds as she moved. The landscape seemed to blur together, broken only by a body of water, woodlands, or a range of mountains but no matter how far she went there was no green. It was so bland and eerie. Never before had Stitch ever experienced anything quite like this before; nor the hunger. Besides the lack of colors, the lapse of life. Her stomach gurgled it's discontent at her and she let out a low huff. The squirrel she'd stumbled across earlier in the morning had escaped her and Stitch had moved on, defeated, though she was marching on hungry.

She couldn't stop, she told herself. No, she had to keep going southwest. The truth was a much scarier thing for her to confront: she would have to try to join a pack. That was the short and low of it. The idea wasn't overly appealing: she shied away from confrontation with wolves she didn't know though stranger's were not as easy to avoid on her own as they'd been in Ikkuma. Her tendency to act like a deer in someone's headlights and like a general weirdo as one of her half brothers used to call her all the time had caused her to intentionally cringe away from it. The idea was appalling! Though, not as appalling as the idea of starving to death. Given the choice Stitch knew she'd rather be a weirdo and try to find a pack that would take pity on her, or if she was lucky accept her “quirks” then she would let herself starve.

Her steps slowed as she the scent of a pack began to strengthen the closer she moved towards their borders. She hesitated, visibly, one front paw in the air, cringing. Did she really want to do this? No. Did she have to do this? Yes. “C'mon Stitch, you got this, just take a deep breath and ...don't make it weird. Be a professional.” She attempted to comfort and inspire herself under her breath. A deep breath was taken — the scent of cedar strong mixed with the scent of the pack's wolves. “Easy peasy.” She steeled her elegant shoulders and pushed herself to close the distance, her posture lowering instinctively into a submissive one as she scooted a few scoots back to ensure there was an adequate distance between their borders and her body. With a sage nod to herself she tipped her head back, her muzzle angled skyward and let out a howl to call attention to her presence.

Stitch felt her muscles tense as her eyes widened at the approach of a wolf, freezing as, literally  as if she were a deer caught in headlights. This was exactly what Stitch had invited when she'd sent out the call, and she knew it, but she hadn't expected promptness — or rather had hoped the Alpha(s) weren't prompt and would thus give her a chance to flit out because Stitch was insanely flighty. She stared at the light grey woman (with black and light brown accents) with doe-like eyes, her mouth opening and then closing. If I don't move she totally can't see me, right? Stitch knew that wasn't the case — all of her previous (and horrible?) experiences told her as much and yet her quirks were hardwired into her and no matter how she told herself she was going to be the epitome of professional she always ended up being her peculiar self. For a moment, she fought the urge to cringe at herself. “Uhm,”

Way to go Stitch, her horrendously monotone and snarky inner voice told her, exasperated. Pearl. That was the name the woman — no the Alpha freakin' Female — had called herself. Pearl's name, nor her apperance didn't appear to be overly intimidating, which was a small comfort but Stitch didn't allow herself to let her impression fool her. “Uhm is...it's not my name,” Stitch felt the need to awkwardly and oh-so-cringe worthily clarify. “I'm...well my actual name is Salvatrix but everyone calls me Stitch.” Because, honestly she didn't look like a Salvatrix. Salvatrix was a boss ass bitch name and Stitch was not a boss ass bitch. At all. Thus, Stitch had always stuck. The situation began to feel super mega awk-ward to the Kesuk-DeMonte and idly Stitch couldn't help but wonder if this situation could possibly make her look worse. Ironically, part of her hoped that it couldn't, while the other part of her hoped that she hadn't made a complete and total mess out of it before anything could really come of it.

Stitch was able to draw a small comfort from Pearl when the alpha female spoke that she liked her and then was nice enough to warn her that she was probably going to be intimidated by her mate: the alpha male — and boy was she ever right! — but added with a conspiring wink that he was really a teddy bear. As the grey toned male approached Stitch had a hard time seeing the 'teddy'. Instead, she mostly saw the 'bear'. Stitch was not short by any means of the word but she was sylphlike and no match for him. Not that she wanted to get on his (or Pearl's) bad sides. No, that would be super bad. Though there was nothing aggressive or hostile in the male's tone or approach — despite that his posture was naturally dominate — Stitch kind of ...deflated. Like a cake made wrong that caved in on the middle.

“Yeah, yeah I want to join,” At least, she was pretty sure she did. She certainly didn't want to starve to death at any rate and that seemed like a good reason to want to join a pack. She might have been...quirky but she could hunt just fine and was a great storyteller — that had to count for something, right? “Well, I don't really fancy starving to death, you know,” She didn't want to be dishonest with them, so she was truthful. Ears fanned back to rest at half mast atop her skull as she considered the weight of what he was saying. If she joined she couldn't be flighty. Although, she'd had no desire to leave Ikkuma if not for the power struggle between her elder father and her younger grandfather and how they'd pit her in the middle of it.

She liked her comfort zone and saw no reason that if they accepted her why she couldn't make Broken Antler Fen a comfort zone. “I'm...I really like my comfort zones. I'm loyal because of that, so once I warmed up and got used to a new pack I doubt I'll leave,” She admitted and fought the grimace that started to tug at the edges of her lips. “it's kind of not my style. I mean the only reason I left my natal pack was because of a power struggle. I'm...ah, not a fan of conflict.” It was an unavoidable part of life and wondered if that only hurt her case.

“I can hunt as good as any,” Neither of them had asked but she thought she might as well meekly add her skills. “I'm a good storyteller...if that means anything.” Boy, oh boy, she was horrible at this whole “joining” thing. Cringe worthy — like one of those really cheesy, low rated films with terrible acting. Except this was Stitch via real life, which made it worse in her mind.

To Stitch's ultimate surprise — because really she'd jumped to the assumption that she'd messed up big time — the alpha male: Sebastian spoke that they could use a good storyteller causing Stitch to nod with an soft eagerness. Whatever breath Stitch had been holding as she'd awaited their judgment had left her body in a dramatic whoosh when they both seemed to agree that she would make a good fit. Talk about the best news she'd heard all day! Exponentially, her chances of surviving had risen, and really despite her hesitancy neither Pearl or Sebastian seemed like evil dictators. She got a good vibe from the pair that eased her nerves only a little. It would tame time before she could feel entirely comfortable around them ...or her pack-mates, of course ...but eventually she would reach that point.

Her tail began to wag slowly behind her, her ears slicking back against her skull in a moment of unbidden joy when Pearl gave the official welcome. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She offered in a yip and then remembered herself and offered them a sheepish look with a small cough. She was forever her own source of embarrassment, apparently. "I promise, I will not let you guys down." Stitch promised before she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension easing from her elegant shoulders as she awaited to see they had anything else to add.