The great towering brute had caught the scent of the stranger on the borders of the bay and had found himself drawn toward it with a hesitance that had not touched him before. This wolf was not alone; they carried the scent of another pack on their coat, which brought the leviathan into a defensive state. His inky coat shimmered with the water as he emerged and loped steady toward the wolf on the edges of the bay. As he neared, the familiar scent of Doe wafted through his inky nose and the silver-ribbed brute breathed a sigh of relief that she would be the one to catch the wolf on their corners. Skellige’s dark gaze roamed toward them and he blinked in surprise at the figure who stood beyond; a pale brute with coal smatterings along the ivory of his fur. As the wraith drew nearer, he began to see the deep blue of the male’s gaze. The witch doctor’s voice had not yet touched the air out of inquiry, and this troubled the looming shadow.
 
Closing the space on the two wolves, he lifted his head upward and held it level with the man on the other side. The deep russet of his vision roamed the stranger’s features and he breathed a short huff. “What brings you to the edges of the bay?” the leviathan asked softly. The timbre of his voice struck the air firmly and lingered there a moment longer than it should have. His coat still dripped from the sea where he had been hard at work preparing for his pack. Still, he could not help but to remain curious at this wolf.  

The witch doctor at his side seemed to react sheepishly at his approach, but the wraith regarded her with only a slight glance. He had been curious why she would silently sit on the border with her gaze trained on the pallid male, but it was not something he would openly address. The flighty female would have had her reasons, or so he would assume. Instead, his lengthy ears swiveled forward to meet the words of the freckled stranger. An intense listener, as per usual, the leviathan found himself surprised that there had been wolves who had occupied the bay before his own brood. A thoughtful frown creased his inky features at the response that had been given, and he nodded his head solemnly.
 
“It’s natural to be pulled back to your roots, I suppose,” he said gruffly – this was not because of the present company, but merely because the sea king was gruff even in moments of leisure. Meeting the gaze of the other wolf, his dark eyes played across the features of the man and he wondered faintly how the sea had procured such a beast and then allowed him to depart. Was she not pleased with her makings? Casting the thought from his mind, Skellige believed that it was simply his destiny to dwell on the shore and that was the reason for the previous pack having fallen. The mystics had willed it, and so it became a reality.
 
“I am Skellige Cairn; the Leviathan of the bay. This is Doe, our Witch Doctor,” he motioned toward the slender female at his side with a swing of his muzzle. “We await the blessing of the mystics before staking claim on these lands, but our preparations have offered great promise.” It would not be long before they would be allowed to call the land theirs without argument from passersby.

Another leader in those lands, and he went by the moniker Charon. Skellige allowed his dark gaze to travel over across the land in search of the mountain that the dappled male called home. When he had settled on the figure that must have been home for the man, he wondered what had driven the wolf so far away from the ocean and toward the rock at the center of the earth. It was not a question that was appropriate to ask of a stranger, so he held his tongue and flicked his gaze back to the fellow leader without a change in expression. Once the dappled male inquired about the mystics, the leviathan seemed to take on a look of surprise. It etched into his grizzled features for only a fraction of a second before it was washed away.
 
“The mystics are the great spirits of the sea,” he spoke firmly. Again, he had been surprised that Doe had not piped up to speak of the great ones with whom she was so closely associated. He could only excuse the behavior based on the idea that she must have been shocked that this wolf did not know of their ancient beings. “The bay is very suitable for myself, and for my people,” the wraith then added with a small nod of his crown. Though he had gathered wolves who knew very little of his culture, they were quick to adapt and to learn. He could not help but to believe that it had been fated.
 
“What drew you away from it?” he inquired with a slight cant of his skull.