Ravensblood Forest Don't let her love you

*awkwardly slides this in here*

Arturo was not particularly sure when he'd begun to think of Ravensblood Forest as his but as he made his trips from the Bay to the Forest more frequently he knew in the marrow of the bones that he would own this forest. It was not the Isle, and further North than the gangster had originally intended to settle but it was much closer to Blackrock Depths than Two Rivers Isle which was good for business. It would make it easier to maintain the alliance that Skellige and him had struck so many months ago, an alliance that Arturo had every intention of keeping with the sea titan. Finally he could make good on his side of it, having taken shelter with the Depth wolves for a few months. It had been a set back at first and when Riptide had happened a necessary precaution. Yet, the sea witch had became a memory and the gangster felt that now was the time to raise his Teaghlaigh, to forge his Family and fulfill his intent of traveling to these Wilds. If his children still resided in the Wilds Arturo did not know, had not sought them. They were their own wolves now, and though they would always be apart of the Family they were not forced to remain. That was how it had always been and how Arturo remained for it to be even in this new reincarnation.

He prowled through the tall sequoias, careful to avoid brushing too close to their trunks that oozed red sap in case it was fresh. It would take some time to fully rid his coat of the scent of sea brine but he wasn't so sure he wanted to begin that process by getting sap stuck to his fur. No, Arturo Fearghal was, perhaps in that matter, a vain beast. The tall gangster picked up lone scents, his pace slowing as he gave a pause. A lone female and a lone male. The sense of territoriality was almost overwhelming as it rushed over him, but Arturo had a head for business and he understood that this might be a recruitment opportunity. Him and his army of one were not enough. He would need to build his Family, which meant active recruitment.

Course altered, Arturo headed in their direction shrugging through the underbrush as he approached the two — comically arriving just as the female (whom looked like she'd seen better days, perhaps) going for the male's bum with her teeth exposed. He was comfortable midst the tall, dark sequoias — a king without his kingdom — and though the melanistic coywolf was cautious enough to maintain his distance he was not threatened by their presence. Nor, since he saw this as an opportunity, was he bothered by their presence in his forest. He was amused, but given that he was without context he shouldn't perhaps have been, yet his amusement toyed at the corners of his lips all the same.

“Is that how you customarily greet others?” The gangster called out to the female, maintaining his distance from the two loners.