Northstar Vale i used to be soft

the time that slips between when his howl fades and a figure approaches — movements elegant that give off a grace that, as a beast who put minute detail into swift footwork, was instantly jealous — is sweetly short. tzenno, not real sure what to expect, dips his head below the set of his shoulders in a bow of respect, of subordination as if he were greeting his lordfather, master, or numerous trusted generals; but he is a lowly ronin, disgraced prince ...always unsure which was a worse title to bear.

reneian empire, he repeats the name to himself in his mind; testing it, playing it over and over as if it might make some sort of sense to him. noting the empire man glimpsing at his appearance, tzenno glimpses down as his muck covered paws and wonders, belatedly, what he must look like. cleanliness hasn't exactly been a top priority and the rains made it hard to remain so regardless. i am tzenno, he offers his name with an additional curt bow of his head. and what? i wish safe passage thru your pack's territory? a sojourn? neither truth sounded real great, nor beneficial to anyone but him and tzenno knows neither is a fair thing to request.

he draws in a breath and his ears flutter back to rest at half mast atop his skull. i was hoping to learn some of your pack. maybe join, if your empire has the room and need of me. though he feels a deep ache in his chest at the knowledge that a pack wasn't the same as having a master ...but he was tired. physically, from his journey ( which seems to have no end ) and from the loneliness that has been his companion since the death of his master.