Frostfire Ridge the north called for me

Kenneth had never really been a cautious type of wolf, he had been rash, impulsive and reckless as a boy, as the literal black sheep of Ziragon Bosk. But he didn't really have a choice then, it was either proving himself as strong, skilled and headstrong or being what they expected him to be, weak and craven. Obviously, he chose the former. When they exiled him from his natal pack, he lost most of his recklessness and previous impulsiveness, become an icy, rather stoic, cold hearted wolf, but never really cautious. However, he hesitated a distance away from the borders now, something unusual and weird for the exiled warrior. He did not tilt his head back and howl for an audience like he always did the moment he stopped by a pack which he wished to join, but simply lingered, as if unsure of what decision to make.


The Rekkr saved him from it. Keen falcon like white eyes spotted the aspiring Alpha from a distance, tall and broad, draped in a coat of rich, silken chocolate brown and graced with striking eyes of crystalline blue. Thick stripes of bright silver mark the wolf underneath each eye, his most unique features. Kenneth watched as the wolf of the ridge approached, posture dominant and tail curled stiffly above his back, signifying his rank of a leader. 

The black wolf's own posture shifted to one of deference to the chocolate coated Rekkr, listening calmly as the other male inquired for his purpose by the ridge. "I seek a new home," the Northerner said in his faintly accented voice, eyes of fresh snow drifting towards the other's face for a moment - avoiding the eyes- before falling to the ground once more.