Wapun Meadow oh aberdeen, you've been calling to me

Whether the man meant they were biologically his and the mother had died, or he had just taken them in and raised them as his own, he was uncertain. He didn’t pry—it was never his nature to ask too many personal questions of others… at least so soon into meeting them.

The tri-colored wolf gave a nod to him—the conversation direction indicative of ending, and he found his own lips twist with a similar wry smirk—thus far, the other packs of the valleys had been harbingers of peace and healing… allegedly.

Perhaps this one was a little more kindred to the creek, in which they would not shy from a fight, if need be. “Likewise,” he offered, casting the youthful man an appraising look. “Perhaps once you and yours are more settled, we can discuss a joined pack hunt to celebrate spring.”

Whether the invitation would be extended to the others in the valley… he had little desire to reach out. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t, in time.