Oh who would ever want to be king?

Usually, he spent his time in the Spine, protecting his home from outsider wolves and other predators who sought to find a home in their lands. But wanderlust took hold of the young aspiring warrior once more and after resisting it for several days and realizing it wasn't going to go, he decided to go on a short trip and be back in a week or so. If they questioned him, he would just make up some excuse that he had gone to practice his sparring by tearing antlers from bulls. They did want him to earn a warrior trade after all.

These green lands were still unfamiliar to the Spine wolf, so he allowed his paws to take him where the gods wished him to be. Days passed but Arverk remained steadfast in his travels, continuing in his steady pace forward and forward and forward. He would know if it was time to go back, and right now, it wasn't.

Soon, he came across a river and decided to follow it, wondering where it could possibly lead to, but then it could lead to nothing. Not all rivers led to exceptional places...but this once did. Though his stoic facade remained firmly in place, he was rather awed by the amazing sights the cavern provided, having never seen such a sight before.

The swarthy male kept moving though, constantly on alert, his guard up, ready to fight should anything call for it. There was a brief change in the wind and the unfamiliar scent of a pack wolf touched his nostrils, a few moments later, he caught the form of the greyscale man.