Rising Sun Valley Reds, oranges and yellows

The young Roman had been traveling for sometime now, wondering what was happening back home. Was Atilius the current Alpha? After all he was the oldest and the second most skilled beside him. He hoped that the pack was thriving under the rule of his brothers, or his father if he wasn't dead yet. Somehow the emperors always got murdered by their successor. It was a cruel world, the world of the Romans. The agouti roman sent a quick prayer to Mars, the god of war to guide him to a suitable pack.

He stiffened, a gentle flare of his nostrils brought the scent of an unfamiliar wolf towards him, he paused wondering whether to continue on his path towards the strange male or to just avoid him. But perhaps he was a from a pack, a pack that he could join and start over again. Common sense overruled everything else and slowly made his way towards the stranger. It was a large silver male with bright platinum eyes, sleek fur, long legs and well-muscled.

He seemed to be looking at the stars, quietly the roman approached him. “Salve" he said in his native tongue, totally forgetting about the common language in these wilds.