sunrise over the ice-kissed taiga, and the early morning glister highlights a wandering spectre; silver, sunlight flashing off lustrous wintry fur. sharp, purposeful, muscles rippling over marble-sculpted build. a predator's gait, slinking and full of malevolent intent.

he does not know why he is here, or how. he does not remember the fall, nor his rebirth.

he knows only his name, his purpose, that burning need to start anew. zephyr; icewraith, glister witch of the wilds. calloused pads hover over icy ground, hesitant. the wraith halts, finally. it has been a long journey — but finally, he feels at home. the familiarity of this place is not lost on him, but whatever past of his lingers here is of no interest to the glister witch. this is his future. this is his rebirth.

the wraith's attention locks to the intrusion well before the pair announces their presence, wary in the way of all lone wanderers and alert to the finest of details. ears twitch at the sound of footsteps, head cants, sidelong glance cast toward the mismatched duo. caution in the bearing of the first, herculean and stygian-cloaked; curiosity in the second, feathery and fawn-coated. the wintry witch returns with his own chuff, turns, posture neutral as his stony expression. he recognizes a shared scent between them, the marker of a pack, and quickly reaches a conclusion. if your home is nearby, you don't need to worry about my presence. i have no intentions of intruding, a slight pause, glacial gaze flickering over the pair. i came here to see what has become of my former home. he hadn't known that until he'd said it, but it feels right; it feels like the truth.

he does not miss the hesitation that seems to plague the pair, but it does not trouble him. there is little he can do to reassure them beyond what he has offered, at least until they've seen proof of his intentions. instead he turns his attention to the words that follow, the question presented. yes, he turns his gaze briefly round the hollow, then back to the man. i'd once hoped to claim the ridge beyond, as well; the frostfire. a slight pause. what of your claim?

the small gesture goes ignored, but not unnoticed; zephyr has no interest in playing the game of dominance with this man. especially given the words that follow, and the flicker of life they inspire within the wraith. i would like to hear more of your pack, if i may, he starts, polite and level, continuing smoothly into his own specific interests. of your goals, your leaders — whether you might have need of another warrior or scout in your ranks. returning to the taiga has renewed my love of the land, i admit, but i have no interest in staking my own claim. a slight pause, barely a breath; less than a second. my name is zephyr; perhaps, if our goals align, i could pledge myself to strengthening yours instead.

he nods, unsurprised by the man's admission of leadership; it makes sense, after all, based on their interaction so far. the wraith feels a little more at ease to have met the helm of the pack already, assessing him as level and perhaps worthy of loyalty. perhaps. a refuge, he repeats, tone favorable to the concept. i had hoped to create something similar, when i claimed the hollow. i would be glad to join you in your endeavor, if you'll have me. i can't claim any ambitions for a high rank; my desire now is to put down roots, settle into a home — but i'll take on any responsibilities the pack requires of me.