Drinks are on me!

Exploring was in the blood of any true Roman, whether they were bastard born or pure blooded. If some part of you were Roman and part of the branch Arverk knew, they were bound to love exploring, though naturally some would love it more and others only viewed it as a small hobby. Either ways, they were all plagued by wanderlust, and it was natural for them to leave the pack from a day to weeks when their wandering blood called for them. He had been a messenger back in Palatine Plains, he didn't see why he couldn't be one here either, though here messages would have another meaning, probably a decapitated head or a dead body.

Arverk simply allowed a small smile to play at his lips in response to Iqniq's comment about purseing the Outrider trade, he preferred actions to words and although he could be quite eloquent if he wished to be, talking wasn't something he enjoyed unlike some other wolves. It was something that was nescessary if he wished to survive, and therefore he was an expert at that skill, but other than that he took no joy in speaking. He would fit in with the stoic Tartok wolves.

Arverk dipped his smoky black crown to his leader as the golden male left before trotting over to the pond to soak himself and admire the scenery. Because gods know when he would have free time again.