Dawnlark Plains three-day weekend

The pack was devastatingly low in numbers. Any other time, Scimitar would have taken this with a sense of pride -- the less wolves in the pack, the less trouble there seemed to be, especially with the rough crew they seemed to entice. But he had four puppies at home who were at a tender age.. and if they could buffer their ranks up just slightly, he knew the caches would be better stocked for it.

So, the regal climbed down from his high mountain and swept through the lands below, feeling a sense of unease at the unfamiliarity of it all. His pale paws swept through the grass, noting the direction Duskfire Glaicer would be and determining to steer clear of it. He held no love for Njal or Tuwawi, and did not wish to come across any of them.

Instead, upon entering a stretch of plain, he came upon two wolves. Both holding the warmth of gold, silver and brown within their pelts, he did not recognize them.. nor did he smell a familiar pack upon their pelts. Stoically, the Alpha closed the distance between them, his own form held at a cautiously neutral stance, given the freedom of their location. "Hello," he greeted, his tail giving an idle sweep through the air, though he had missed Shylock's introduction and question upon his arrival.