Otter Creek get ready to roll

It was but a fleeting expression, but the smile coiled against a set of soot-kissed lips did nothing to soften the stalwart appearance of the mountain wolf. It did, however, produce intrigue. Reading acceptance, rather than jovial happiness, it successfully opened the doorway that the inky drifter had been knocking on. A compliment. Eyes sizzled with fire at the thought, a gentle sway of dark tail signaling it had been accepted and appreciated. The bear-wolf exuded calmness and confidence, saying little but speaking much. Should she request loyalty it would be delivered in abundance and stopped only in bloodshed.

The next statement was potent. It was an invitation, somewhat, just as the drifter's statement had been just prior. "With you," he murmured matter-of-factly without arrogance or headiness of the intimate exchange thus far. It was simple enough: he would follow her. The dark drifter would follow her to that mountain, if permitted, and accommodate his oddities to their rituals. The statement had weight spliced between the words. The inky lone wolf would not follow just anything but very strictly her. 

It would be foolish to not to feel the intimidation of transitioning from a loner to that of a hierarchy. Though the emotions tugged at base of throat, a hefty swallow rammed the pride and fear right back into gullet. It would serve to feed the animal during the stressful step across the boarder.