Ouroboros Spine Opportunity is the Tip of the Spear

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His paws guided him without purpose. Well, true purpose. So long as he was heading up, he didn't much mind which path he chose to take. It was the way of a loner. Pick a direction and head towards it. Those habits, where hard to break. Even harder, was teaching his feet to still. He'd roamed for too long. They did not understand what it was like not to feel the ache of travel or the sting of rugged terrain. He was not so eager to spoil them now either. Moving it was. 

The wind shifted. His path crossed with that of the rugged alphena. He had half a mind to leave her be. With that bear of a wolf wandering around, he doubted she had much time away from the boy determined to prove to her he was a man. Solitude, he knew, was a beautiful, wonderful thing. Alas, there was some part of him that knew he had to try. He'd been here a few days and had made minimal efforts to meet his packmates. He sighed. Try and try again. 

Kero turned, altering his course so that he crossed paths with Tonravik. He found her, sitting upwards and covered in terrain. For a wolf with an already grizzled appearance, she certainly knew how to go about hagging that up. A number of sarcastic comments floated through his head, but he held his tongue and said none of them. Instead, he simply sat where he stood and turned his gaze out over the horizon. The landscape was a far better view.