Stavanger Bay beating them back - joining

An permanently annoyed expression scarred Goldrinn's face as he padded along the sand. He disliked the gritty feeling as sand found its way between his toes and itched at his paw pads. Even worse, the sand was damp and sticking to his paws with each step. He glanced up as a cool, autumn wind blew into his face, carrying the scents of prey and wolf. A pack territory, he thought, eyes widening as he looked up the craggy cliff rising before him. This will be interesting."

Goldrinn crossed into the territory, walking only a few yards before pausing. He didn't want to be caught too deep; what if he wasn't accepted? Would they merely chase him out or try to kill him. His shoulders moved in a shrug. Puffing out his chest, he stiffened up and slightly raised his maw to howl a greeting. As the sound bounced off the cliff and echoed throughout the area, he lowered his head and flattened his ears, hoping to look as friendly as possible, although the permanent smirk still stuck no matter what.