Altar of Twilight Without a Trace

"Far from here. Called Strikestone." Was all he offered. Not a description or an exact location. Yanna had left his birthplace as others had before him, wishing to aspire to something greater. To unleash his hidden potential out in other corners of the wild.

He dipped his chin down ever so slightly, a gesture of respect. "A fellow warrior huh? That lifestyle is all I know. It suits me." He was happiest in that role. Fighting, sparring, defending those worthy. The thought of taking up the role of mercenary even crossed his mind a few times, should he ever find the right pack. "They say scars are like medals, Charon. Each has it's story." He said with a knowing tone. Sadly, he had yet to attain any of his own. His pale eyes flicked over the others shoulder, in the direction of his home. "Your home has an incredible view. But I am more interested in the pack itself. What are you like?"