The Sentinels will the faithful be rewarded

If it had not been for the strengthening scent of borders Athens would not have realized that gradually the Deepwood Weald had ended and the outer rim of The Sentinels had begun. The thick blur of dark woodland offered no difference of territory, though luckily, the Tiberius-DiSarinno had been paying attention to avoid any unnecessary aggressive transaction from the wolves that ran with the pack whose borders he'd gained upon. Salmon pink tongue drew across his chops as he lowered his head to sniff at the multitude of scents the markings offered him before he moved away from their borders to a more than respectful distance. Thoughtful flick of his tail was given, brushing against his hocks as he contemplated his options. He did not have to stop here, he considered, as he cast a glimpse heavenward, taking a moment to admire the myriad of brilliant colors the sunrise had painted on the canvas of the heavens. No doubt there were more packs in the area; but he had to try somewhere and the worst these wolves could say to him was 'no'. If they rejected him he would move on. Admittedly, Athens wasn't confident on the statistics of that simply because he had nothing to compare or back it up, yet he would never know if he didn't take the chance.

He inhaled deeply, tipped his head back and let out a low howl to announce his presence. As his summons faded into the treeline of the towering conifers he became conscious of his posture and made it neutral.