Northstar Vale And pluck till time and times are done

Saena could understand that. There was a very good reason she'd never been without a pack for long. Wolves hunted well in the winter, in her experience, thanks to the spindly legs of their prey, but it was still hard alone. A deer hindered by snow was still a deer, and still very capable of harming a wolf who attempted to take it on solo. The smaller mammals hid away in the cold months, so of course a solitary wolf would struggle where a pack would flourish. All her life, she'd had the sense to never be alone during winter.

Rhys seemed to at least understand that he wasn't in for a good time, but Saena didn't know what to offer him. She wasn't fond of his attitude or way of thinking, and unless he had an express interest in joining up with her group and submitting properly to her and Warbone, she wasn't likely to carve out a place for him when they had many other subordinates who conducted themselves more respectfully. Those of Duskvale followed the old ways, including proper respect in place of petty squabbles over rank or pride. Whether a wolf like Rhys could fit into the greater structure of Duskvale with his particular outlook, Saena sincerely doubted, but one could never really tell without trying. She was not dying for members, however, and said nothing of it. It would be on him, if it happened at all.

"I'm loathe to leave my pack for long," Saena admitted, coming to a slow halt and gesturing with her snout toward the rest of the valley. "You're in the clear here." More specifically, Duskvale was in the clear—Rhys was now far enough from their kill and temporary caches to be of no concern to the wolves—and so he had nothing to fear from them. "If you continue on you'll reach the mountains eventually, and beyond there, a flatland." She smoothed back her ears, displaying a semblance of relaxation and well meaning, before asking, "anything else you need from me?"