Swiftcurrent Creek Find a place of joy

She had not been waiting long when another call, deeper and indicative of an authority figure, echoed through the morning air. Issy startled, not expecting the sound, before silently chiding herself on being so nervous. The man appeared moments later from the treeline, bringing Issy hesitantly to her feet - suddenly feeling that it might be rude to sit.

He was dark, much like Issy, though taller and perhaps a shade older. His very appearance seemed to be scream tall, dark, and handsome, but this was irrelevant to the druid; what most caught her attention was the way he held himself, a symbol that he was in charge here. She dipped her head respectfully as he approached, smelling a handful of other wolves and even puppies on him as he neared. 

"Tapadh leat," she murmured softly in surprise, not expecting him to speak the old tongue. Her pale gaze remained fixed elsewhere, afraid she would offend him by looking him in the eyes. 

"I would like to join your pack, if there's room," it went unsaid that she also meant if there was some reason she was found unacceptable, "I'm a decent hunter and fighter; I brought this," she nudged the carcass towards him, careful to maintain distance and remain on her side of the border. 

"But there's always room to improve," she added softly, hopefully. Her plush tail twitched, as if it wanted to wag, and then the druid slipped into a silence filled with anticipation.