Bearclaw Valley he is the bane of mortals

The names were not familiar to him; he hadn’t considered the possibility of knowing the male, his appearance unfamiliar, so he wasn’t the least bit disappointed. The names were tied to his scent, both of which he intended to at least try and remember, just in case the information should ever be needed. The reason behind his being there further prompted the Inuk to remember him, should the scout ever return with others in tow; although he doubted that, that would happen, it helped to be prepared. Besides, the scents of other packs and the names of their scouts were things that he needed to learn to prioritise anyways, given the claim that he was working towards staking; whilst he wouldn’t mind being entirely cut off from those outside of his valley—his family members excluded—he’d started to realise that it wasn’t realistic to do so. This left him to act against himself, doing things he wouldn’t normally do had he not taken the step towards reclaiming the throne that was rightfully his.

Despite wanting to, he refrained from avoiding introductions this time around and said, “I’m Alexander Apaata.” Alexander. Although he wasn’t accustomed to using his full name—he’d spent much of his youth yelling at others for not calling him Xan, actually—he decided to start at least trying to use it; the name was linked to Bearclaw, his status as the heir, so ditching it entirely now seemed… disgraceful. Ignoring his internal monologue, for the time being, he stared at the other male, considering what information could be shared—what information he could use. “There could be something,” he decided. “What pack are you from?” The albino was curious, and the information could be considered beneficial—to him, anyways.