Sequoia Coast Get over your hill and see what you find on the other side

Thuringwethil blinks, slowly, as the playfulness dies away from the older male. He seems a little defeated in response and she fights the urge to pull the corner of her lips back, keeping her face void of any further emotion. If she can cause him to right himself once more, she can keep him that way.

When he repeats her name, one ear twitches curiously. His seeming fondness for it causes her head to tilt just slightly to one side, only to correct a second later as he announces his purpose for staying so long. He isn’t upon her borders and she hasn’t offered an invitation, so her tails remain steadfast and away from the stranger.

“We aren’t much different than any other,” she explains. At least, to their very core, they aren’t. They protect, serve, and prosper. “We have our own way of doing things and it is not uncommon that we are called savages. Of course, this land is not where we originate but from a place with harsher conditions than this.” Her slate eyes scan him over as she would have if he were standing opposite her scented border. She can tell he’s older but he’s still in one piece, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he isn’t of some value. However, taking another in—one that she isn’t sure she can trust—is another thing. It isn’t a Seageda or Trigeda wolf at her borders, one she knows she has their loyalty. “Your loyalty becomes your life if you find a home with us.”