Northstar Vale I can still smell the smoke

For anyone! Maybe some other Diaspora doggos ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

The boy wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was relieved he had a group at his back once more. Even if they were only few in number; the members he had been told of seemed capable enough (except for the newest one who had apparently fallen from the sky — Redshank may be starved but at least he hadn't incapacitated himself).

However, he supposed he should make himself useful and provide for their injured packmate, and to prove to Stigmata that he was making some sort of effort (he really was grateful to man for bringing him into their fold). But of course, he would do it with the same dour enthusiasm that he did most everything with.

Slowly, Redshank descended the slopes into a snowy Vale he had once, long ago, called home. He scarcely remembered much of it, but it brought up a painful, angry reaction that he struggled to ignore. With his usual scowl, the Cairn stalked through the naked forest, searching for either prey or herbs he could return with.

diaspora had grown. it was with mild surprise that mahler had received the news of the wounded in their midst; he had not pictured an altruistic heart in stigmata. but perhaps he had been mistaken. no matter; his energies were best placed elsewhere, rather than being expended questioning a decision he truly did not care about.
patrol first; hunt second. as of yet, the gargoyle had come up empty-jawed, and he supposed it was due to the expanded scent of wolf in the area. it was almost as if prey animals did not fare well when there were a greater number of teeth. 
the movements of another's stride between the bare trees caught his eye; mahler paused only a moment before he was trotting toward the other. stride affable enough, though his plume was lifted in hint of his rank. this was a land of men, it seemed, and he would not be outdone.

He was not alone here. In between the trees, Redshank caught sight of a shadowy figure stalking among them - lean, large, and dusted with ash. The Cairn stopped in his own skulking stride, watching warily as the male came into sight fully and redirected his path towards him, dark tail raised in a show of dominance. Stigmata had given him a quick run down on who was who within the group, and had mentioned a man who was to be his second-in-command.

Humbled by his time up in the mountains on the verge of death, Redshank lowered himself slightly in respect, unwilling to be further punished by the world for his disregard of authority. He kept his flaring eyes trained upon the other, however, sizing him up. Tensions would run high until the dynamics of the group were figured out, and Redshank was determined not to end up on the lowest rung of the hierarchy.

"Huntin'," he grunted simply in an unspoken invitation for the lilac-eyed man to join.

satisfied by the male's show of submission, mahler lowered the flag of his tail. there was no need to flaunt it any longer. a nod was given; mahler held back to grant the other lead in their hunt, for it had been upon his invitation. when they had presumably begun to move along, the steelflower-eyed leader glanced to his companion.
"how have you been settling in diaspora?" accented as ever, mahler did not doubt the other's ability to understand him. it had stopped few creatures before, and he did not expect this warrior to be any different. the wolves stigmata gathered; mahler marveled silently at them all for reasons that differed.

He was glad the other didn't make a show of his dominant position in the group, seemingly satisfied enough with Redshank's own display. His impulses urged him to take an unnecessary stand, to immediately and needlessly challenge him just to satisfy his weak and battered ego, but self preservation quickly won out. The other male gave an impression that he wasn't one to be trifled with.

He then spoke, his thick, strange accent making the man tough to understand. It took a few moments for Redshank to decipher what he said before he replied with a shrug, "better than dyin'." At least, that's what he kept telling himself, anyway. He kept his gaze on the older wolf for a few seconds longer before starting forwards, taking the allowed lead and beginning to search for a trail. "Redshank," he added after a few beats.

"mahler," he rejoined. the slenderer of the two moved forward. redshank. the shadow enjoyed the way that the syllables fit together, and followed with lowered muzzle, searching for prey scent. the answer to his inquiry was one that piqued the gargoyle's curiosity. "from vhere did you come before?" was his second question, though the lightness of his tone conveyed that there was no need to answer if the desire was lacking in redshank. it was good to hunt all the same.
they spoke quietly for some time before parting ways.