The bear’s acceptance into the pack of druids was more pleasing to him than he would have been able to express properly. He had been granted access by the pale woman who led them, and she had offered him a few words in regards to her own homeland and it had done well to calm the nervousness that had tossed his gut inside of him. Aria too had hailed from the northern lands, and this was both a relief to the great soturi and a comfort. While their cultures were certainly different from each other, Lærke did not believe that it would be too difficult to share what he could of the moonlit wolves. They were a good people and he loved them dearly. His stories and his songs often pertained to his home, and though he had been asked numerous times why he did not simply return to the frozen land of his birth… he knew that his skills were needed elsewhere. Life was not meant to be lived in one place; it was intended to be experienced.
 
The song struck his ears and caused a smile to crinkle his features. The large chocolate brute turned his head toward the border and pushed his massive frame forward into a steady lope. Lærke could feel his chest swell with delight at the sound of the young girl and her cry to the heavens. They sway of his muscles felt good beneath his thick pelt. The soturi could see a challenge in attempting to navigate through the thick trunks of trees and twisted roots of the earth. His life had been spent in rolling frozen hills, and the cover of foliage was new to him.
 
When his eyes caught sight of the dark-masked girl on the border, he picked up his pace and came to a grinding halt just before where she stood. Salmon tongue lolled from his mouth and his silver eyes twinkled lovingly toward the young rogue. “Lotte! Minun kaunis siskoni!,” he barked to her in his powerful bass of a voice. Stepping forward, the large bear moved to press his skull against her smaller chest and lift his paws around her neck.

The broad beast was greeted with words that he could only register as loving. Lotte was as boisterous and lively as the rest of them, but she had more of a quick tongue about her. She was roguish in more than just her battle tactics, but also her mind and wit. The massive warrior had always found her remarks had a way of filling him with a bubbling laughter that would spill from his lips and shake the air around him. The quick-legged girl had so much going for her, he could not have been more proud. Lærke had a powerful devotion toward all of his younger siblings, but Lotte and Dagfinn – the twins – had a special place in his large heart. They were the light at the end of many a long day for the soturi. Even there, in that strange land, seeing the inky limbs and hearing the loving insults that were offered by the rogue… it was a slice of home.
 
The tongue that she spoke was familiar to him and so it warmed his heart to hear it. When she pressed her tongue to the top of his skull, the bear gripped his limbs around her tighter than he had before and squeezed until he feared that he might harm the girl. When she had lowered herself to allow for a more comfortable position, he removed the grip that he had held fast to, and took a staggering step backwards. The grin that had been imprinted on his face was enough to cause the edges of his eyes to wrinkle and in the silver depths of his optics shone a light of love.
 
“Lotte, this forest is… is… epätavallinen,” he exclaimed in the familiar and gruff bass. “I could not resist. The wolves here are beautiful creatures – druids and healers,” the bear then went on to tell her with wide eyes. It was almost as if she would not believe him if he were to tell her that there was an entire pack of wolves who did not seek battle or great wars, but merely sought to aid those in need. After a moment, the bear attempted to curb his excitement and breathed a heavy sigh. His pale silver gaze seemed to soften on her and his smile curled in a goofy manner. “Olen tyytyväinen olet täällä.”

At once, the rogue inquired to him of the forest’s warriors. The bear drew a frown to his handsome features and glanced toward the earth. It was a dreadful fate to be the sole standing guardian – as far as he was aware – of the pack. They had taken a peaceful front and had built a life on that, but the brute’s skills were not to go to waste; if they should need him, he was a capable beast. Lærke breathed a sigh through his nares and drew his argent gaze upward once more so that he could peer adoringly at his sister. Their family had been a proud group of warriors. It would only make sense for Lotte to inquire about the soturi of the wood. “Ah, ihana lapsi… I am their steadfast guardian,” he responded. There was a fleeting moment of swelling pleasure at the thought, but the bear was quick to force it aside. To boast without reason would not grant him honor.
 
As was her nature, the quick-tongued girl had reprimanded him for his lack of words on the creatures of the forest. The broad male lifted his crown upward with a moderate cant. After only a moment, Lærke tossed his muzzle and chuckled in his booming voice. “Niiden fyysinen kauneus voisin puhua tuntikausia. Minun täytyy tietää ne parempi puhua hengellisen kauneuden. En ole matala Bardi, sisko,” he returned with a smirk hovering on the edges of his lips. For the bear was a man who found his mind drawn to the soul of another. While he was quite impressed with the beauty of the wolves of Donnelaith, Lærke was far more entertained with the premise of their character.
 
As if drawn by the words that he had spoken, the pale beauty emerged from the wood and inquired to Lotte if she had found what she was looking for. Lærke dipped his skull low to the woman of the roots. “Kaunis lapsi,” he greeted her in his rumbling bass. “Deirdre, this is my sweet sister Lotte. I was just telling her of your home.” Once he had lifted his skull to gaze at her with sparkling ghostly eyes, the soturi gestured with his muzzle toward his beloved sister. There was a fondness in his expression – one that spoke powerfully of his devotion to his family. The bear did wish that his Lotte could join arms with him in the shade of the trees. He wanted it so.

It seemed that Deirdre had arrived to every call before her lately, which was always so confusing. She knew that the girl was a caretaker-- one to remain inside the heart of the territory, rather than to stay along the borders. Maybe she really just wasn't cut out to be the leader Lasher thought she could be. 

With a heavy heart, Aria padded up to the group of wolves, trying her hardest to hold the highest posture, her tail raised higher than everyone elses. She was in charge-- this did not change. She glances to all three wolves, smiling slightly as to not suggest she was unhappy, and waited for an explanation from someone.

A warmth spread through his chest as she mentioned her love of his stories. It was pleasing for the bard to know that his tales had spurred interest in his younger kin. The children had been fond of him on many occasions. He could recall – with absolute nostalgic delight – the frigid winter nights when they would find themselves tucked deep into the warmth of their den. The bear had taken it upon himself to tell great tales of battle and victory. The children would gather around his massive frame with wide eyes and wagging tails. All of them had longed to hear the adventures of the soturi. The children would dream of joining the wars and wandering into their own homes with stories of their victories. Lærke had seen many of them grow to run alongside him, and had even witnessed the passing of a select few. Still, it was with great honor that they took up their fangs and claws and made themselves one with the moonlit wolves.
 
“You have heard so many of my stories,” he responded with a fading smile. “If you might stay, you are certain to hear plenty more.” It was a hope that the charcoal-painted girl would join him in the ranks of the healing forest. They were not, by any means, nomadic creatures. Lærke had traveled away from their home simply to offer his skills as a warrior. Having found a pack of healers was not the best means of demonstrating his talents, but he had been lured in by their beauty and the strange means in which they had constructed their pack. He was certain that Lotte would find them equally interesting.
 
The pale wolf Deirdre had not been the only one to arrive along the borders. The leader of their brood – Aria – had found her way there as well, and stood as a silent guardian. His pale gaze traveled toward her, and the hulking bear lowered himself into a bow of respect before he lifted himself upward and flagged his tail. “You are lucky, Lotte. Even their johtaja has come to hear your call.” A smirk curled his dark lips upward and crinkled the edges of his eyes as he turned them on the young rogue. The opportunity was there, and if she were to grasp it, Lærke knew he would rejoice.

Her gaze shifts between Laerke and the stranger-- Lotte. She was friendly and kind and seemed to be eager. That was enough, and with Deirdre already taking a liking to the woman she felt there was so reason to turn her down. Her head dips slightly, tail waving behind her. "Welcome, Lotto, to Donnelaith. My name is Aria January--" she pauses, "-- johtaja of this pack. Laerke is a wonderful man, I can only assume you would be just as contributing to our pack as he is." 

With a gentle prick of her ears she steps forward to press her nose into the others fur, assuming the other would do the same. "Welcome to Donnelaith."