Redhawk Caldera journey

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— ridgeback watches the other wolf speak, tail giving a quiet flick behind him, a conversational smile pasted upon pale mouth. the man didn’t posture or preach, and that was good enough for ridgeback to listen without bracing for insult.
nice to meet you, killdeer. my mother named me ridgeback.
tail swaying at hocks, he shrugs once, a lazy, one-shouldered gesture, giving his nose a swipe of his tongue. i've come a long ways. i'm not from anywhere around here, a basin called redmire bastion. it was a small pack, mostly family. ridgeback admits with a furrow of brows.
he pauses, then adds, a bit dryly, but i left. turns out some wolves don’t like sarcasm. but! got a good nose, strong legs, and i know how to shut up when it counts. i bet i could rustle you up some recruits.
and that was mostly half-true.