King Elk Forest Drop of rum on my tongue

so sorry for the wait!

Trajan was a thinker at heart, a philospher of sorts. He spent many days lost in his own wandering thoughts, absentmindedly journeying through the material world he was surrounded in. Of course, he did what he needed to do to contribute to pack life — border patrols, hunting and whatever else. He hadn't gotten a trade yet, but he found that really, he couldn't care less. If the soldier did not meet Mato's requirments, he would leave. His purpose...he still hadn't found it.
A howl rings through the air, jolting Trajan out of his thoughts. Silver ears swivel and as a breath leaves his lips, he begins to make his way towards the source of the voice. It didn't take him long before the stranger's scent invades his nostril and his silver body navigates its way easily until he stands before the stranger. Mismatched eyes scan her with a sort of controlled carelessness and a quiet strength. "What brings you to our noble borders?" Trajan deadpans after a moment, his head tilting to the left as his tongue flits out to lick at his lips. There is a sort of underlying sarcasm within his words, but it is up to her to interpret it as she wishes. Trajan finds himself, once again, absent of the thing known as 'care'.
A lazily crooked smile crawls up his lips as he awaits an answer.