Deepwood Weald Some say the end is near

Long gone - he'd recognize their scent in the Haunted Woods once arriving, but for now, he'd continue to see what he could find out about them. Long gone? Gone as in disbanded or moved to a new location. Gone as in killed off, or expanded beyond what these woods could sustain and onto a more fruitful one. Judging by her tone, she wasn't loyal to them. Perhaps he could squeeze more information out of her while they were still civilized... while he was still civilized that is.  Mind explaining what long gone means? Scattered, or moved.

Were, are, which one was it. The meaning behind those words was contradictory to their state of being. Should they be something he looks further into? Or a group went to the wind, forgotten like a season. 

 Vengeance, mercenary for hire. Allowing his words to linger for a moment, deciding to keep his followers to himself for the time being. Allowing them to spread their own services on their own terms until the pack was well-formed and healthy. There was no need to spread their presence as a pack just yet, letting the word spread like wildfire to those who would want to crush them before they ever became true. 

For now, as far as anyone knew - except for a few trusted enough - he was a solo mercenary looking for work.  And who is asking? This time he turned the question onto her. He too offered a mild grin as he waited for her own introduction. She smelled of a pack, that was for certain. One he did not recognize, not yet anyway.