Cricket Creek Bog Another day

Ryes curiosity had been piqued by the other males scars, each one could tell a story, maybe some might tell the same but this wolf had seen his fair share of battles. It was both worrisome, and intruiging. Rye wasn't well versed in fighting, mostly choosing to resolve squabbles with words, so if a fight was to ensue, his death would swiftly follow. That was something Rye wasn't happy with, his inability to fight good would eventually be his undoing. He would have to learn sometime but for now, it's too late. As to why Rye was here? Well, "I'm exploring the land, trying to see whats out here. In a way, same as you I suppose."

"My names Rye by the way, Rye Black." He informed, giving a slight bow of the head, a small smile accompanying. "You belong to a pack? Has'ta be far from here, I didn't smell any packs while on my trek to Redhawks, and I did cover a lot of distance but perhaps I just missed it." Rye shrugged, still very unfamiliar with the land around him and the possible packs surrounding him. There was so much he had yet to learn.