Shadewood and fear is the most divine emotion

being in the western region of the teekon wilds felt strange — it has been some time since he's ventured this far west. typically, he has no reason to and it brings with it unwanted memories of his cubhood. suppressed things that he was happy to bury especially given that the only sibling he has left ( as far as he's aware ) hates him as much as he hates her and they are now estranged from one another. regardless, he's here now. to recruit. to see if he can call upon his favor to end a war for his old pack, just barely scraping by. wintersbane's drawn back to the present as she gives a shake of her head. she assures him that she's not hurt and then turns the question to him.

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. i'm alright, the tundrian assures her, amusement unfettered in his tone and upon his expression. trust me, it'd take more than a bump to hurt me. he was made of sturdier things than that. still, he appreciates her concern. well, the tundrian draws on a contemplative breath. there are worse ways to meet people. he offers with a roll of his broad shoulders as he regards her where she has taken a seat.

azalea.

wintersbane. he gives his own name in return, gaze lifting from her for a few moments to scan the surrounding trees out of sheer habit and the need to be vigilant now that he was not longer stuck in his single-minded focus. he doesn't expect trouble — the shadewood doesn't smell like it's in the process of being claimed — there are a few scents here and there but nothing he feels the need to be overly concerned about — and he no longer carries the scent of the redhawks' mortal enemies upon him so he tentatively assumes that they should be alright. still. he tends not to leave much to assumption alone.

the evening grows dark and i was on the hunt for a place to rest for the night, you're welcome to join me if you'd like. the sotaherra offers to her.