Duskfire Glacier Take off my disguise

A taggeth for referenceth

Was he treading on thin ice?
Yes, it appeared so.

His indecisive approach was not well recived, and it would appear he managed to piss off the whole trio who had arrived from the borders. As a part of him would've guessed, this attempted initiation was probably not going to bide well. Unfortunately, Kaster was not known for his attached side either -- such a thing had been suppressed and practically nonexistent ever since his familial attachments had failed him. He would not be able to sympathize the pre-existing bond that ran in this pack before and any attempt to do so would be bull-shitting on his part. He was simply not concerned with it.

Though one didn't necessarily need these things in order to prove their work ethic and reliability, and that's what Kaster came here to do. He did not need to be favored in order to do his job and provide, yes?

So he turned to greet the larger man who approached with a bowed head, his size almost reminding him of a certain someone he'd met during the winter seasons, lest for the contrasting pelt colors and lack of an accent. "Wintersbane," the woodlander repeated, attempting to get in touch with the Tundrian's name. "I am primarily a hunter, second a guardian if need be," Kaster would state calmly, raising his cranium up to, again, cast his icy gaze towards the scenery behind the three. He was a trained hunter with a body formed for the sport due to prior history. The instinct to guard what belonged to him came naturally with his food aggression and overall "fuck the fuck off my fucking shit." personality.

Which briefly reminds him of his run in with @Kigipigak, but this is quickly brushed off.

"I can provide your pack with an extra food supplier," assuming there were hunters residing here, "--and someone who can protect your borders if needed." And he assumed so as well. The strong, hormonal smell of pregnancy was not hard to miss from this group -- there were soon-to-be den mothers here. He watched one of them brush against the leader's side. 'Ça doit être sa femme...' , Kast thought to himself...