Gyrfalcon's Keep Bones Exposed

Almost immediately, postures adjusted, relaxed a fraction as they regarded each other. The discovery that their roots had been lain in the same pack was all they needed, it seemed. There was none of the silver wolf's usual suspicion, as confirmation lay in the fact that this one knew the language she spoke and answered. The likelihood of another just offhandedly knowing the tongue of the Tartok wolves was slim to none. 

That nothing had happened to the pack settled her nerves and her muscles gave up some of their tight tension. "I will aid you." In truth, there was very little chance that her brother was alive. If this wolf before her accepted her company, Kroc would end her nomadic trek to track down her sibling and once more lay her head down in the lands of her true family. 

"I am Kroc." There wasn't much more that she felt the need to say, the oath she's taken binding her to this woman's side with no hesitancy or unsurity from the crocodilian. This was where she was meant to be, what she was meant to do. The draw here made sense now and Kroc's irritation at her chase of the unknown had virtually melted away in the face of what was transpiring now.