Golden Glade Have Room for One More?

A look of surprise flashed over Shalon's features, "I apologize for my rudeness your Majesty, I am known as Shalon Sentiel of the White Hall Steps." Shalon stood stock still as her rub his scent along her shoulders, a curious mask on her maw. Why was he doing this? Her ears perked foward as he continued to speak, and understanding dawned on her. Idiot, other wolves in a pack, obviously they might believe you to be a tresspasser. She made a mental note to herself, check new comers for a scent mark! "I shall tell any who would challenge me as such you Majesty. I will endeavour to meet as within you pack. Learning as I go, I suppose." Shalon grinned, with a small shoulder shrug, "Thank you for this opportunity, I will not let your acceptance be offered in vain." She would bow her frame again, forever humbled by her Kings acceptance.