Gyrfalcon's Keep [m]The More The Merrier, Right?

Haizel, a sheer size for a wolf and indeed in every right should be a warlord, was but a giant marshmallow of a man, toasted perfectly over a fire. He did not see enemies, nor even competition. Nor did he smell a whiff of anything that would usually get a man excited. 

Not this one. But he plucked a flower from somewhere deep in his fur, pink as a white wolf's paw pads, and hooked the stem between his teeth for now. Fleurette. That's a really pretty name! he grinned, the delicate petals hanging daintily from his jaws. Always have a flower, he thought. You never know what sort of wolf will appreciate it. And there were more wolves out there who took it as he hoped they would: as a symbol of his friendship. You can have this flower, if you'd like. I could put it in your fur! 

That feathery tail wagged as happy as could be. It was then he finally noticed the other man's approach and cautious sniff, and he repeated his greeting to him. I have more flowers, if you'd like one, too. We could all match! 

There were so many friends here. He loved getting lost, he met the best people.