Neverwinter Forest The island of misfit toys

They hadn’t expected his entrance from behind, but despite thus, they were quick to submit – perhaps the first thing Scimitar looked for in a potential recruit. He did not need wolves falling to their stomach before him – he simply needed to know if a potential member could respect the hierarchy.
 
With a nod to either in quiet greeting now, his torn ear flickered, his only good one perking forward to catch their names. Pleased they went right in to introductions and their skill set, the man gave a rumble of approval, his own tail idly drifting behind him as he considered their words.
 
“That’s good – we require every member here to train in battle and take up the mercenary trade.” He paused, his eyes drifting over them quietly. “Are both of you from around here?” What knowledge did they have their neighboring packs? He paused then, as if to reiterate his reason for asking. "You both seem respectful and hold a skill set we desire. We're looking for wolves who are loyal to their pack, and take on the notion that Neverwinter Forest is family. We've had a rocky start with some of our neighbors, and will not tolerate any trouble caused toward them – or from them."