Swiftcurrent Creek You know it's not the same as it was

Fortified.

He needed the creek fortified. Not for the land itself, though that and pride had been what seemed to have initially brought trouble upon them, but for the members and pack mates.

It was a comfort to have Moss, in a weird way—her sister would have been an even more welcome sight, though he wouldn’t speak such to anyone—but at the very least, he felt she was trustworthy.

And so when her uttered bark of warning stirred his attention across the snowy landscape, the ebony wolf was quick to switch his own route—breath curling in the air from the cold. Gaze sharp upon his Eta, his attention was then brought to a girl woven in pale gold—something what appeared to be almost tears in the gentle gaze of her eyes.

He frowned, coming alongside his pack mate, ears erect forward as he assessed the she-wolf. “Kvarsheim wolf,” he uttered, though it likely meant nothing yet to Moss, given how new she was. “Greetings.”