Ouroboros Spine heathen fires burn the ancestral night

The swarthy female was one whose scent he recognized as the most prominent upon his Alpha's pelt. Blinking at her as she stacked herself higher, Ivitaruk did not hesitate when he allowed his own tail to drop neutrally, his muzzle to graze just a little bit lower than before. Being so newly accepted within the ranks, the Tartok warrior was not yet ready to make waves -- first, he needed to see what it was he was up against.. and if she even needed to be put in place.

But this intent did not stop his own curiosity of who she could possibly be -- was she a warrior? A healer? A scout? "Ivitaruk," was all he spoke for the moment, announcing his name, for if they were to be pack mates, they would surely become familiar with one another sooner rather than later.