Moonspear Like a toreador

Njord’s pace changed to a lofty trot as he descended. His red tail was held high, but it waved loosely like a ribbon. It broadcasted that he was authoritative, but also inquisitive of this vagrant who approached his pack. Her unique silhouette and coloring was not one he recognized, present or past.

True strangers at Moonspear’s borders were a rare occurrence, maybe once every other full moon. More often than not, their visitors were acquaintances, friends, or kin. The Moonpacks possessed a strong reputation in this region and their ranks reflected the strong family ties they maintained.

It made Njord reminisce about the Copse. Meerkat and the girls were supposed to have moved there by now… he would have been patrolling those borders instead, if life hadn’t thrown them a couple of curve balls.

As he drew nearer, Njord gained a better sense of the wolf’s mien. It was a petite female, long-furred even in the summer, whose pelage reminded the man of Seal’s friend, Frolic.

His ears pitched forward as the tempo of his waving tail increased. A lick of his lips mirrored hers and telegraphed that he was not looking for a confrontation today. Njord stepped forward to take her scent - a wolf’s handshake.