Neverwinter Forest At the edge of the woods

Njal was blunt – something Scimitar could appreciate, mas their energy was indeed fading with each passing day. Wolves could only live upon rats and other vermin for so long before they began to hollow, and a quick look at the swarthy wolf before him could reiterate that this wolf seemingly held no idea he had stumbled upon a famine.
 
One ear flickered in acknowledgement to the silver guard’s words, and a flicker of amusement gleamed in his eyes. The wolf introduced himself, speaking of his skills. “We don't have much room, and will only fill our ranks with hard workers. All initial food is to go to the Beta, who has newborn cubs.. and then my mate, who is pregnant.”

He paused then, appraising the wolf before him, Njal's comment still lingering in his mind. “He’s right, you know,” the cinnamon wolf remarked, studying the stranger with mild interest. “There’s a famine here – why would you want to stay?”