Silvertip Mountain Giving up, going in

Grayday lowered himself further as the male appeared, not bothering to squash the apprehension that the multitude of strange wolves awoke in him. To do so would be to deny his instincts, and that had been very much frowned upon in his own pack.

While the male's question made his tail twitch in confidence, the female's query brought it right back down. I hunt, I track - I can run and not tire. I've only just arrived in this land, and the famine has not gripped me the same as it has gripped those that dwell here. That did not seem very impressive now that he thought about saying it to these strangers, and he struggled to think of something else that made him worth while - well aware that his bad eyesight made him a less than desireable. He had determined earlier to hide his ailment, despite his whole-hearted belief in the truth - that didn't seem to be an option, now.

"It's a minor annoyance, miss," he assured them, hoping his voice was as confident as it sounded to his own ears. "I do... see colors a little differently than most wolves." There. It was the truth, if not all of it. "Rest assured, my funny eyes are more than compensated for by my very healthy nose. My home pack relied on me to sniff out our meals, and I pull my weight when it comes to taking down big game."

And, while it wasn't a permenant enhancement, he did decide to tack on: "I just got to these lands - I still have my weight and strength. I'm sure many packs are in need of that, in these troubled times. And if you accept me, and that stops being a boon to you when the famine is over, I will gladly leave you in peace."