Stone Circle Welcome wagon

The sky was a dove grey in those hours that the man scoured the borders, amber gaze seeming almost to melt the snow that drifted over his paws and scattered into tiny specks that lined his spine, littering his golden pelt with a dusting of white. The air was delicate and cold, like lace that embraced his body in a layer of chill, but he minded it very little - the bitter sting of ice did not sway his movements, did not cease his endless working as he continued to mark the edge of the Easthollow territory. It was home, and he would work to keep every wolf inside safe. Indeed the gamma was awaiting the tender kiss of Spring to melt the chattering teeth of Winter and all it brought, but he was in no particular hurry. Easthollow was faring well, this was a feat he was rather proud of.

No doubt Mawk struggled from time to time when images of his deceased son, the intenstines scattered across the ground, decided to display themselves to his unwilling mind, sharpening that knife of guilt and sorrow to plunge into his chest when the night fell - but his way of coping with this, much like his way of coping with most things, was to busy himself with his duties. So when the howl pierced the solemn silence of his traipsing, the father was quick to respond.

He emerged from the trees with a neutral expression but head raised high, fiery gaze observing for a moment as the majority of the distance between the two was closed. Ordinarily he might have smiled, but he would desire to know the intentions of this wolf before he made any decisions on whether or not he trusted them. "What brings you to our borders?" Mawk's deep voice carried across the breeze, curled tail flicking behind him as he contemplated the reasons for this visit. It was possible this one was a potential pack-seeker, a stranger looking for a home, but he wished not to make any quick judgements.