Phoenix Maplewood the old wolf remembers

Right after the first signs of morning light graced the Phoenix Maplewood, Reek begrudgingly pulled himself from the comfort and warmth of his den with a long and winded yawn. For whatever reason, he would not allow himself to enjoy the quiet that had suddenly befallen the maplwood. To give in to this calming silence, he felt, would leave himself and his wolves all too vulnerable for the next tragedy/threat that saw fit to sweep though their lives. Quiet was unfortunatly very, very dangerous to their collective safety; Reek would not be lulled into a false sense of security under it's metaphorical blanket.

Towering emotional walls had been constructed around Reek's fragile psyche in the wake of his unwarrented suspicions. He remained ever vigilant in his patrols. Perhaps, even more-so in this time of indisputable peace. Taking to the eastern border, Reek trudged through freshly fallen snow and marked their borders with an intensity and tenacity. Their scent would remain strong and the rule over the taiga; supreme.

Marking along the way, the ragged alpha plodded along. However, soon into his march, Reek caught the scent of strangers beyond his border. Genuinely curious, He stole away from his work and moved to meet them beyond the marking of his claim. The typical scowl that tended to adorn Reek's face had faded away in this time of peace, but he still had his apprehensions with strangers so close. His approach was unaggressive in nature, but tail lifted high... marking his lead.

He found himeslf met with two able bodies and an ancient looking creature. A ragtag group indeed, but Reek was no stranger to such patchwork arrangements. In a way, he felt the maplewood was a group of misfit's in itself.  Reek lifted a brow, inviting whoever led this band to speak.