Silvertip Mountain Giving up, going in

Grayday was once again stumped by the male's questioning. "Truth be told," he began, feeling a little guilty about his 'white lie' now that he knew pups were in the picture, "I have a little trouble hunting smaller game. It... slips by me, sometimes. In the dark, mostly. But I've been doing well enough for myself - I didn't come here to be fed. I came for companionship, and to feed others, in companionship's name. I'd certainly pledge my loyalty, and provide protection to the pack - pups and all."

He turned his head as the scent of another she-wolf reached him, and took a moment to admire her regal bearing when she appeared. Despite her calm arrival, Grayday could feel something strange from her. When he took a deeper whiff of her scent - stronger now that she was so close - he felt even more puzzled. Something about her seemed similar to the little she-wolf he'd met before. The one he'd lost; the one that'd inadvertantly led him here, though she'd probably never been here at all.

"I was... looking for someone," he said after a moment, still looking at the familiar-but-not-familiar wolf. "But I'm not anymore. I'm not doing much of anything, and I think it's time to change that. I'd like to make myself useful for the years I have left."