Hushed Willows a swell of smoke arose and filled the air [festival]

The premise of celebrating fertility was not something that Ford bought into. He understood the importance of having youth. In fact, he looked forward to the arrival of the young that would fill the pup ranks within Stormrift. Still, he did not understand the idea of having a festival in order to celebrate such things. He had contemplated the idea of it for several days before the call had sounded for their gathering. As with most things that he did not fully understand, the titan knew that the wisest way to overcome that was to go anyway – to learn from experience.

Trekking across the stretch of beach and through the twisting woods that existed near the edge of the world, the warhound moved without urgency. He relished the taste of the saline winds up until they had faded away to the fragrance of willow trees. The dark man of the sea already missed the sound of the waves beating on the shore, but he did not turn back. Ford knew that his visit to the stranger pack was something of a political move. He needed to be sure that they were aware of the rift and those who settled there; he needed to make a name for himself.

Once there, he could almost taste the presence of others. There were enough of them, from a mixture of homes, that they all melted together in a pot of diversity. One thing that he noticed upon arrival was that there were no familiar faces to him. So, the titan watched from the side and searched for an opportunity to insert himself into one of the unknown's conversations. The sharp glint of his mismatched gaze lingered on each face – all of them unfamiliar to him. It was truly the first time that he felt out of place since he had arrived to the wilds. When a man offered the telling of stories, the dark warhound moved toward him so that he could listen.