Porcupine Ridge iphone screen full of smudges

It wasn't long before the dark-haired wolf's silhouette loomed before Farstep. He increased his pace in hopes of catching up, but it was hardly necessary. Scents traveled far on a breeze and Taggarik was turning before the drifter had a chance to close the distance and announce himself.

Immediately the lone wolf pressed himself lower, whining gently and poking his tongue out between his lips in an effort to please the superior wolf. The very tip of his tail swept genially across the ground as he crouched and reached his nose out toward his alpha, sending a pebble skittering into a clump of grass and raising a mild cloud of dust into the air. Taggarik's own tail wagged higher, and Farstep's eyes followed it, noting the subtle cues—the whole thing waved, suggesting a lack of tension. The dark male stopped a short distance away, and his voice came out gruff but lacking the gravel of displeasure.

Ritualized greetings were all too familiar to Farstep, who began the slow process of crawling close enough to reach his snout up and lick at the superior's chin in acknowledgement of his rank. Taggarik exuded the air of a dominant wolf and Farstep had chosen to throw his lot in with the male after witnessing the ridiculous behaviour of pack wolves elsewhere, if only he would be permitted to remain.