Two Rivers Isle But please, don't bite.

Yet another wolf had arrived, a seemingly well-respected male a bit older than Amos himself. His ears pressed forward as the male spoke of trades and ambition, both of which he was familiar with. He cleared his throat, thinking of what services he could offer. He'd better make himself seem impressive if he wanted a shot at joining the pack, though overdoing it was distasteful.

"I'm not too rusty when it comes to fighting," he said gruffly. He was both bulky and sturdy, assets that aided him in combat. "I can also offer my services in hunting. I'm not particularly spectactular, but I have been able to feed myself in the past." He wasn't a stunning hunter, and his skills could be written off as normal -- but not terrible.

Amos couldn't think of anything else to say. He fell silent, waiting for a response from any of the wolves that had come to question him.