Silvertip Mountain Giving up, going in

Grayday, in all his travels, had never seen a white wolf. His sister had been stark, to be sure, but even Sunspot's coat hadn't been this light, this pure. He simply stared for a moment, entranced with the way the light played on her coat.

Still, when the she-wolf stood tall, he remembered to humble himself accordingly.

"I want to join a pack," he said in answer, not bothering to ask if she was one of the wolves that called this mountain home. She didn't smell like a lone wolf, as he undoubtedly did. "Any pack. If not this one, could you direct me to one that would accept an adult male?"