Swiftcurrent Creek How do ye do

Nefarious watched the other male wearily, not knowing what...or how else to watch him. They might have been newly minted pack mates but there was little doubt that the other male was of a higher rank than the Shaman, and even then, Nefarious had just curled his lip at the other male, breaking ranks or what have you. It held fast that the other male didn't seem to hold it against Nefarious but the Kesuk was no mind reader and therefore was running off basis assumptions upon his own interpretations. Nefarious watched as the other's lips twitched upwards into a soft smile, discernible despite the fog that writhed between them. Nefarious played with the question, for a moment, of if he should be even more weary of his smile or if it meant what smiles should have normally met. That they were on friendly terms. Regardless, what was the worst that could happen between them? They were pack mates which by default automatically dictated that they had to, at the very least, be civil with one another. Kieran admitted that he'd been apart of Swiftcurrent Creek for a while, which Nefarious took as a clear advantage, though his posture had not quite made it to 'relaxed' yet. “New meat,” The Sigma admitted, because there was no sense in hiding his newness. As it was, it had came as something of a surprise that the other hadn't been able to scent the Shaman's newness, but either way it would have came out one way or another.