Porcupine Ridge our lady of sorrows

The pale man came with an earth-toned shadow. Hex watched their approach, eyes coolly appraising the pair. He was happy the yearling was here at all, and he gave Dirtwater Fox a cordial nod before gesturing toward the other wolf with his muzzle.

Who's this?

The newcomer was a few seasons older than Hex, and littered in battle scars—some newer than others. His nostrils flared; he found scents there, strongest being the pale one's, but a few different ones as well.

He waited patiently for the response, tail swinging slowly, cautiously behind him.