Wapun Meadow The road is getting hard to see

Accented words drifted through the air towards him. A tone he had not heard before. Etienne, he nodded with a dip of his head. Whether or not he'd been told of Swiftcurrent's newest recruit, the goliath would introduce himself personally. I am Frederick. Fred, if you like. So far no one had taken a liking to the nickname. Perhaps he would be the first.

The ocean was his cradle, or so he said, and while Frederick couldn't quite understand the connection to the ocean's depth that this wolf held, he knew how it felt to hold on to the songs of your people. Then, the man, too, sat. Frederick would make idle conversation when he did. You are a swiftcurrent wolf, and hopefully the scent on his fur would portray that he was, as well—despite his newness, that was. How is the creek treating you?