Bearclaw Valley if you are the dealer

the best way to understand the workings of a region was through assimilation. what the wolves of these wilds needed, what they were willing to give and to take ...these things could not be learned by whittling one's days away stumbling about the vast expanse of territories hoping to run into another soul. that was a waste of time and energy and if there was one thing that the st.clair didn't enjoy it was wasting his time. the afternoon is young but overcast, painting the world in drab grays of a rainstorm yet to come and joaquin considers himself lucky for not yet being caught in what he feels sure will come to a downpour sooner or later. a cursory glimpse is sent skyward; briefly, only to return to the path he's settled upon, steps slowing to a cease. joaquin is careful to keep a more than respectable distance between the borders — strong with many scents peppering the mouth of the valley — and himself. a lift of his chin is given and from parted lips he lets out a howl announcing his presence to those who lorded over the valley secreted away.

first post deleted & reposted because i forgot to tag @Merrick, oops.