Porcupine Ridge threshold

I have thoroughly enjoyed RPing with you and would love another thread with these two... if you're up for it. <3

Part of him was stubborn, and for this half of the pallid brute, it was difficult to imagine pledging himself to the ranks of a pack and to a group of leaders that he very well could have despised. Then, there was another half of Kierkegaard… one that understood the benefits of living with others and contributing to the survival of all instead of a select few. It was difficult to judge which side of him would win before the falling of the first snow. Either way, he would have to discuss the decision with Moz before he made a move. Kierkegaard’s only true companion had been the dark-furred female, and he was not about to change that aspect of his routine. The storm was beginning to pass over the ridge and the rain had turned to nothing more than a misty drizzle. The male cast his attention towards the coywolf girl and found himself wishing that the weather would turn once more and leave them stranded for a while longer. He was not capable of admitting to it, but Kierke had enjoyed the company of the wiry girl. It was a rare occurrence, so even the ashen brute did not know how to handle his own emotions in such a case. Her words caught his attention momentarily, and he found himself surprised by the offer to see her on the strand, and again at the idea that she would share with him her cache. So dumbfounded by the invitation, the Sairensu male found that he was incapable of formulating a response that he would deem appropriate to her kindness. Rising from his seat, the hulking male cast a ghost of a smile in the direction of the charcoal-coated woman. “Caiaphas, your company will always be welcome,” he growled to her in a quiet voice, unsure if that was a fitting ending to their conversation. It was the only way that he was capable of expressing his like of her. With a quick dip of his skull and a thankful glance of his golden gaze at her tapered muzzle, the brute turned to the north and set off in a steady pace to his next area of interest. Kierkegaard was not one to dwell on the companionship of strangers, but his mind strayed to her fiery spirit and sharp yellow eyes on occasion in the hours that had followed their meeting.