Standing on the Rooftops

His gaze followed the movement of her tail as it rose over her back, and he watched as her posture adjusting to fit a wolf of her rank. Rank meant a lot to the wolves of the Spine, it meant a lot to the Roman, having been born in a pack where discipline and respect was taught from a very young age. He was happy to defer to her now, for he had not yet earned his place among them, but he would make sure to rise from the bottom of the totem pole. With time, he might even be a leader, but those were dreams for now.

The white bear turned, golden eyes gazing at him before a small nod was given, she then began moving forward but not before uttering a few coarse words in his direction. A small smirk found its way up the black whale's lips as he fell in step behind her, though it vanished a moment later, resuming his stoic look. "Your name," he simply said in answer to her question asking what he was waiting for. He sure as hell wasn't going to refer to her as white furred, golden eyed female bear of a wolf. It was too long and too stupid.