Lost Creek Hollow for the line in my life

there was a broad space between stigmata and the rest of bearclaw's damp remnants. he stood casually and inert, for the moment, letting his tarnished silver gaze wash over each of the new wolves who had come to accept them, and then huffing to himself in mild disappointment as he recognized them all as more youngsters. burly and strapping as though they all appeared, the warhound was immediately put-off the idea of falling in line behind more young wolves.

especially, not wolves so heavily scarred. wolves with such grievous wounds did not make smart choices to begin with.

his back stiffened when they had all finished their pitiful pleas for a unneeded extension to this "family", and slowly - without challenge - stigmata made his approach. "i am stigmata," he said first, retaining a neutral expression as he regarded the leaders before them. he was impressed most by the dark-hooded amazonian silently judging them all, but he couldn't afford the giantess any more attention than he gave her male counterparts; and he had more class than to let his fancies be known right away.

"i will not be joining your ranks," he finalized in his smoky timbre. "taking on more superiors, this time of year - for me - would be unwise. this is as near to your home i will come, and so i must ask," stigmata could not help his glance towards indra; "if your lot would consider me a lone, foreign ally, and allow me to remain unaccosted in the surrounding territories, should my family need me."