willow

Oh, goody. Another pack name to add to his ever-growing list. Silvertip Mountain, it was called, and what a fitting moniker for the beast that loomed above. "I'm afraid not," replied the drifter, "I am merely scouting these lands, taking in what information I can, and moving on. I will retreat further from your home, if that is your wish. You're even welcome to escort me. I was heading north and only paused to rest." Well, the last bit wasn't entirely true. Ovaltine had also stopped to see if any of the locals would come out of the woodwork to greet him. He'd been fortunate enough that his wishes had been answered.

It seemed as every wolf Oval ran into was trying to recruit him. He must have been some kind of hot commodity, and perhaps he would have thought that if he weren't so humble. Instead, he chalked it up to being in an area where there were packs stacked practically right on top of one another. He was curious to know how they weren't constantly battling for hunting grounds.