Larksong Grotto Wassup playa?

Reek found himself on patrols more often than naught. Leading the wolves of the Grotto, he felt, was no different than leading in the maplewood— as in, it was characterized by long, yet fulfilling hours of work. He stayed busy, and while he tried to pencil in enough free time to keep himself sane, he typically spent the hours he wasn't marking his territory or collecting herbs with Tavi. Of course, he had spent a fair amount of time with the other members of the pack too... well, all but one.

There had been another— at the claiming howl. Reek had seen him once, and when their howls died away, he was gone.

Speak of the Devil, Reek thought after a howl from the most unfamiliar pack member cut his patrol short. Ears turning toward the direction of the sound, Reek's body soon followed and he set off in a lope in the direction of his subordinate. Reek arrived shortly and settled to his haunches a few meters away. "'Sup," said Reek, pulling his head upward in a nod. Unlike at the pack howl, where they were shrouded by darkness, Reek could finally get a good look at his subordinate in the light. He looked rough, scarred, and haggard, but appearances mattered little to the alpha male. Having been beaten by the ugly stick himself, the appearance of another was inconsequential.