Dutiful and attentive, he combed their edges over the hours. Being so immersed in this routine placed the pale Wocha relatively nearby when she sang her song of summons, and he was able to make good time to her. He appeared to her from between the trees, tall and proud, looking perfectly within his element with his scent so thick among the others here. There was still a chance the commander may come upon them soon too, as was almost always the case, but for now, he was perfectly equipped to intercept for the time being and find out what was going on here on their doorstep.

He squared up his shoulders once he had come to close enough distance between them and looked her over with his nose quivering all the while. "What's your business here?" he asked first of all, not recognizing her sight or her scent, or any explanation before now other than that she had come calling. Dio's lifted tail arced curiously, and he hoped she would be forthcoming enough with the details now that she had his audience.

Uma rested quietly upon her haunches, swiping her muzzle with her tongue before her pale jaws parted into a massive yawn. She had not slept well the previous day, perhaps in anticipation for what would come tonight; her approach of a wolf pack unknown. Joining was always potentially dangerous business, for there was no way of knowing the level of aggression held by the pack in question, some being more protective of their territory than others. But, as her eyes reopened from  the yawn, a pale man was approaching and his posture, though proud and confident, did not appear overly aggressive. 

His question was spoken in a voice businesslikebut not unkind. Her posture shifted into one of submission and inferiority, as she heaved a soft sigh of relief, her ribs {which were carved by hunger} expanding and then retracting. "My name is Uma," she began. It was not the answer to his question, but she felt that naming herself was the polite thing to do, and may also serve to score her additional points with the snowy male and thereby his pack. "I have come seeking a home here, if there is adequate space for me."

While he was very blatantly keeping his senses trained onto her, the submissive tone she outwardly wore kept him from demanding more in this instance, or otherwise raising any suspicion about her intentions here yet. That much told her she had enough wits about her to know better, likely keyed into their numbers and solidity by one good, observant sniff. While this first impression was just in its earliest of stages, that was already better beginning than even some could offer.

Her name, noted, he would match her with his own in a moment. She had evidently picked up on his straightforward approach here, and went right to what she wanted next: a place among them.

If there was space was one matter. If she was worthwhile of occupying one such spot among their ranks was another. This was what he intended to find out with his next questions. "Do you know of Drageda already?" he asked first, since she seemed a reasonable enough creature so far. He could afford to investigate the matter just a bit more. "And what can you do that makes you worthwhile?" Her scars spoke of experience, and for a loner, she did not seem to be suffering. This much kept him considering her at a greater length.

She answered in her favor, then spoke of what she could bring to them. While they possessed a wide range of wolves here already, leaving them with many of their typical niches filled, but how would he discount the possibility to only bolster then further? Hunters, especially, interested him in these days with their young (and their appetites) growing so quickly. "We run as Drageda, then," he gestured, then went on to namedrop once again with his self-assured stance holding steadily. "Dragoncrest Cliffs is our home." For this seemed a logical flow of information related to the whereabouts. "I am Dio. Wocha, here, beneath our commander, Heda." He was their guard, the helm of their defense, and he intended for it to be seen plainly.

This was only the beginning, and should serve as a good basis for her to build upon. Nothing about him, nor his posture, suggested any discontent with her. When every inch of her spoke of having weathered life's trials in relative stride, scars and all, he was nothing short of interested, and wanting to come to respect her on behalf of it. And of course, her five years worth of experience could surely come in handy here.

After another approving nod, he shifted his paws subtly. "Show me," he invited with a wry twitch of his lips, hoping to see her rise to readiness at the sight of his suggestion; a short exchange of a spar, perhaps?

When she responded accordingly to him, he would let the motions speak for themselves from here on out. He arced part of the way around her, curving into the start of a crescent at her charge for his shoulder. He was forward, bold, and readied to drift his way accordingly between offense and defense. Never did he push it towards true violence, and especially when she proved she could react as needed--experience was able enough to speak for itself, which in the undertones of her motions, he could see for himself.

His strengths were in brute force, unsurprisingly, but he had learned a good finesse. He shifted defensively, his shoulder in mind, then when he could see any opening she may grant, he snapped his teeth back at her roadside.