Moonstone Quarry if i could fly, i'd be coming right back home to you

True to form, Aria's gratitude slipped from Pallas' hide like water from a duck's back. The grizzled old queen regarded the wolf as she mentioned the name: a familiar name that another white wolf Pallas had encountered also uttered. She couldn't promise she would commit that to memory - she was not the type to exert effort remembering something she didn't really care about (Pallas u dick). She would, however, remember Aria. And she did begrudgingly appreciate the wolf's attempt to converse with someone as stiff and unlikeable as herself. "You can do something for me." She started, cutting her tail around her hocks like an annoyed panther: "What packs around here have use for a fighter? Or, if you know of any, what packs have the good grub and doormat-wolves?" Obviously, Pallas was not the type you'd want to invite into your house for an idyllic family dinner. Unless you wanted said house pillaged, razed, and burned.