Ouroboros Spine [j] rocks and mountains

Her mate asks a question. Tonravik is thoughtful as she looks to the other. Eyes as blue as the sea she had seen much of as a cub. His bearing was large, although he was sleek and looked good for running. That he had any resemblance at all to the water caused her to think of strong sea creatures, whales. "Arverk," she names him, answering Iqniq. The name meant whale, but a whale of his coloration. Black. Her fellow alpha was right in his thoughts. Whoever he was outside of this place, it did not matter. It would never matter, even if persons of his past came to haunt him. They would find their grave, here, and there were no such thing as ghosts.

The leader surveys him. "To run with us, we require you to train to become a warrior, and to become a guardian of this pack." Whatever other role he wished to obtain was up to him, but these two were necessary. "We are pack. You will learn to hunt with us. That was foolish," she gestured to where the animal he had attacked once was that, for now, had escaped with its life. It was fortunate the male before her did not suffer any blows to his head; deer were testy and quick, regardless of gender, regardless of age, they could slam one cloven hoof into your head and that would be the end of it. "And we do not tolerate fools." She exhaled heavily, looking at the male long and hard. The woman did not think he was a fool. Simply out of practice. But she fell quiet, waiting to hear his next piece. If he was unwilling to learn or accept any of this, then this stranger she had named would be sent forcefully on his way.