Once again, Corvus was alone. He’d put a lot of distance between himself and the plateau, the only place he’d truly felt attached to. It was yet another loss that weighed heavily on his battered heart. What ached even more was that @Minori left with @Issun without even saying goodbye. Perhaps he’d never understand why he was so affected by this, why she affected him so strongly; he stopped trying weeks ago.

He was beginning to think joining a pack was a mistake. Corvus was numb to solitude before, but being part of the Plateau pack seemed to have cracked the steel door to his truly fragile heart. Losing Blacktail Deer Plateau was a blow on top of the tender wound losing the mercenary band left. So now he shuffled through the snow, having created much distance between himself and the plateau he once called home — the plateau he fought so hard to return to. Part of him wanted to remain alone forever, because at least then it'd save him from experiencing the pain of loss again, but then he remembered what he'd told Minori all those moons ago. He knew that was foolish, especially at this time of year. He'd find a new pack to stay in, if only to survive the winter.

His feet brought him to a familiar forest that reeked of foxes. The warm light of dawn was rising in the sky, and he desired to put his mind to rest. Corvus entered the shadows of the canopy to search for a secluded place to sleep.

He was surprised to hear someone announce his presence nearby. He probably would've noticed the other man beforehand if he'd only been paying attention. What a mess he'd become. Corvus shoved the emotions down and drew a mask over his face when he turned to glance at the stranger. He couldn't bring himself to flash him a grin. The man resembled a spent bullet: a sleek form of sterling silver coated in a layer of gunpowder. Despite their dull color, there was a sharpness to his eyes that Corvus quite liked.

Greetings, stranger. Do you need something? He asked, wondering what prompted him to approach. Corvus' tone was relaxed, though not overly welcoming. The wind shifted, and he caught his scent, which was peppered with the scents of others. He was a pack wolf, the shadow noted. He'd keep that fact tucked away for now.

The man's answer was interesting, to say the least. It certainly earned his full attention. "Those mountains are mine, you see," He said next, drawing Corvus' eyes towards the rocky range. Did he mean all of them? That'd be a bold claim. What of Sunspire? They weren't fond of neighbors, he'd learned. Perhaps they moved, or perhaps Sunspire was no more. Regardless, how the man spoke made it clear he was the leader of his pack. It was as if the universe had granted the wish right from his head.

"... and I have come to see if the valley harbors anything of... use," The stranger finished. The way he hesitated on his final word made Corvus unsure of its exact meaning, but he was familiar enough with the valley to list off potentially useful information.

The meadow north of this forest is the most useful thing I've seen around here — plenty of prey, especially ungulates. There's a pack east of it, though, He supplied, hoping it was at least somewhat satisfactory. Corvus briefly recalled his run-in with the prickly woman and that hulking, bearish man. He'd be keeping his distance from that pack. Figuring an exchange of information was only fair, he then said, I'm not interested in staying in this valley, myself. Would you care to tell me more about your pack?

The man's reply brought forth the question, What would be of use to you, then? Corvus' head cocked to the side as it often did — a fitting quirk for a very curious creature. There were many things that could be considered useful, but it depended on who you asked and when. The stranger's description did more than pique his interest — it drew him in. This... Diaspora left a bittersweet flavor on his tongue, reminding him of the very first and most beloved band he'd joined as a mere yearling. His entire life was spent on the move until his stay at the plateau, and even just a taste of familiarity sounded like just what he needed.

Corvus found it odd that this wolf was intent on claiming an entire mountain range as his own, even with the backing of a pack. That felt like more trouble than it was worth to him, but the stranger seemed to have a fiercely strong attachment to it. Though wary of this, he'd keep an open mind — for a pack was a pack, and this one sounded agreeable enough. Leaving was always an option, as well.

If you're interested, I'd be willing to offer my skills as a mercenary to such a pack, Corvus said in a buisnesslike fashion. He saw no point in playing hard to get — it was winter, and he was alone. Hopefully, there was room in his ranks and a want for his abilities.

The man welcomed him to join his pack, and a smile tugged at Corvus' lips for the first time during their interaction, which was quite unlike him. "In time, I hope to see you become more than that," He added.

I will, Corvus promised, and he was not one to make promises he couldn't keep. Maybe, just maybe, this pack would not be so temporary. He hoped fate turned out that way, but only time would tell, and he was too wounded from his past to allow his hopes to truly soar. The man moved to return to his mountains then, motioning for him to follow. Corvus had forgotten he came here to rest until then, but he was no longer tired.

He walked in step with the other wolf, who then introduced himself as Stigmata. A strange name, but he'd heard stranger, thoughts briefly flitting over to Treason. It was intruiging to him how many wolves carried such negative names with indifference and even pride. Perhaps it helped them embrace their pasts, he mused.

Stigmata next asked if he had a name, and he curtly supplied it: Corvus.