they whispered change

Hi swarthy companion offered him a lick of submission and apology, stirring a crooning rumble from the male, though no more. Now was not the time, though under different circumstances, the cinnamon wolf would have taken the opportunity to cup his brother's muzzle to his jaws gently, perhaps staking claim of dominance between the two. Instead, he remained the perfect picture of submission to the forest queen before them, his gaze falling to her paws.

To say he was disappointed by her claim was an understatement -- he had trusted Muirrin only months before with very similar words. Her tie to the lands and the pack she had attempted to build had evidently not been enough, and her short goodbye had left a bitter taste upon the male's tongue. Had the pack been able to recover -- had their numbers not dwindled so, he would have attempted to stake claim over Tuatha De. But it could not be so, and instead, the two males had taken a chance and travelled down from the mountains. The winter proved to be just as harsh upon the flatlands and the wilderness as it had been at the higher altitudes, and it survival twisted his gut in a harsh reminder that he could not afford to be picky now.

He would need to place his trust blindingly once more.

"We would be honored to serve and build a pack worthy of this forest," he offered finally, his rumble holding back any true emotions he felt, though his shoulder would b rush gently against his companion -- perhaps the only simplistic action that could reveal his hesitance. "I am Scimitar Frostfur, and this is my friend Luka." There was a small pause as he cast a glance to the ebony wolf, wondering if he wanted to introduce himself further. "Could we inquire to the name of the lady we will be serving?" Once more his eyes fell to her, though this time a simple stare to her shoulder -- he would not meet her gaze in challenge or question. The risk of offending her would be too great.