Herbalists' Cache but it seems like a thousand years

Warbone had picked the quiet grove of Hushed Willows to settle, not only for its subtle entrapment on each side by all manner of unpleasant terrain, but also because of its proximity to a staggering wealth of herbal remedies in the nearby area called the Cache. The wolf himself had little to no knowledge of these plants and their uses, but he could smell their worth, and over time he figured he would come to know just what they cost in these lands. He was meandering, more than anything, holding in his chest the grand scheme of his life and where he wanted it to go, when a splash of white against the drab earth of the background caught the male's eye.

It was another male, and by the scent of him, untied to any pack he had crossed before— or any to speak of for that matter. Seeing an opportunity to recruit for his own numbers, Warbone approached with an attention-catching bark, and a tempered walk that displayed no ill-will towards the stranger. Before he spoke, he searched for a reaction to his presence: violent or otherwise.