Bearclaw Valley for a moment the gunslinger merely stood inside the door

an unfamiliar shape stepped from the brush revealing a wolf with two colored eyes and a dark cloak. this figure was not someone that illidan had seen yet while wandering through the pack. still, the stranger smelled of the territory and the other wolves within. the ghost’s hackles lowered, and he dropped his crown toward the ground in a show of his acceptance of the rank that the other likely held.
 
“who’r you?”
 
he asked, voice hoarse and strained. introductions were likely the best place for the two of them to start. after all, illidan was certain that morgana would want him to familiarize himself with the other members of the pack and the territory. she had put her trust in him – had allowed him into their ranks – and he needed to prove his worth to her.