Kildeer Rest propaganda you should fall for

stealing this if that's ok with you? <33

Barrett moved northbound from Great Sky's valley; the newest initiate, wandering from his pelt-lined den, as if savouring the exploration that called him before finalising his loyalty to the people—or, the wolves—that Sega led. Scouting, he would call it. Patrolling. But in truth, he wanted to breath in the cold, fresh air. Winter was approaching, and for this, he was grateful.
Perhaps, on some instinctual level, he anticipated easy hunting, territory claiming, and... the onslaught of brood from any surrounding packs—and, maybe their own. Sega had spoken about 'finding him a wife', and though it had prickled uncertainty in the back of his neck, there was something about it that he wanted, yearned for, almost, in the strangest of ways. But, nonetheless, he shook the thought from his mind.
All this to say, his mind was occupied, quite visibly so, from the way his brows drew together, the huff of air from his nose as he went. He had hardly realised the stranger in the distance, only pausing when the wind carried forth the scent of another, and yet, a scent so familiar. Barrett looked up, almost expecting to see the large form of Sega, but, no, this was another. A girl, closer in age to himself than the aforementioned band-chief. Moving across the plains with a dancers' grace, airy in her pace and tapered in her build. He paused, for a moment, studying her carefully.
He let out a chuff, low, announcing his presence to the girl before he spoke.

Howdy there, he called to her. Curiously, he asked: You from 'round here, stranger? A slight humour in his rugged, southern tone.