Swiftcurrent Creek Trades and Hunts and Rivers

A better person would have offered the man a seat—a drink. A rest.

Akavir had never been accused of being a gracious host, but on many occasions had been accused of being an over-protective ass. So as his gaze sweeps over the other man—the amber eyes of a man who had seen much in life.

He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth a moment in consideration—not because of the packs listed, but because of the consideration of the Moontide wolf before him. Finally, he gave a brief dip of his muzzle, stepping to one side as a sweep of a paw was given. “Would you like to come in and rest, while we discuss more?”

He didn’t relish the idea of Akashingo and it’s other kingdoms in attendance. It also wasn’t lost on him that it would be interesting to see what influence they had on the other wolves that attended—though Brecheliant was the only other pack he recognized.