Ankyra Sound Call me home but don't let me in

:D! I added Jackrabbit in the tbd rank for now. ^-^

It was on a routine patrol that Kjalarr stumbled across the scent upon his borders and made a direct beeline for it, curious and suspicious as to why a call had not risen into the air. None had torn the sky asunder and without the ability to determine why there was a stranger at his borders Kjalarr approached with raised hackles and stiff posture, his tail curled over his back in a very physical display of his dominance. The Jarl saw the stranger easily enough, varying shades of greys to Kjalarr's monochromcy. More importantly Kjalarr could smell him. Strongly at that. A very faint, almost nonexistent scent of a pack clung to his fur though it was clear to Kjalarr that the boy had been on his own for a while. As he neared, Kjalarr's steps slowed, his icy caribbean gaze starburst with silver assessed the young male. Not quite a boy any longer but not also a man full grown yet. Juvenile, perhaps.

“This is Saltwinter,” Kjalarr introduced the pack gesturing towards the heart of the Sound with his muzzle slightly as he spoke. “I am Kjalarr, the Alpha.” It still felt strange not to add 'male' to the end of it but there was no longer need to make the distinction. Caiaphas was missing and though Kjalarr refused to give up hope he had to also turn his sights forward. He was the sole Alpha of Saltwinter now and he had his job to do: lead them. The world would not stop spinning for her, just as it hadn't for Whittier, and Saltwinter had to keep moving forward, too. For a moment, he considered remarking that the juvenile was far from home but then stopped himself. For a moment, in a strong wave of deja vu he was reminded fiercely of himself at this boy's age. He could no longer exactly remember how old he'd been when the Frostfurs had left and he'd joined Moonspear or when he'd left to come to Caiaphas seeking a home with her and hers. All he remembered was that he'd been young. A boy still with a tendency of reckless abandon and a foolish desire to prove himself to the world even if it killed him. It almost had. Luckily, the three scars that cut through his muzzle were all that were left as reminders of his childish stupidity and reckless nerve. It was cringe-worthy for him to look back upon putting into prospective just how much Kjalarr had grown and matured since then.

“What can I do for you?” Kjalarr inquired amiably, his hackles having relaxed though he kept his dominant posture.