Unfortunately the sudden rise of strangers had an opposing effect on the mild mannered Ariston. He lacked sharpness in his voice. He was void of moodiness or "badassery". His ambitions fell short of the typical male persona, the essence of gruffness, and as a result he fell away from them with a discouraged feeling lodged in his chest. He could not help but wander during periods of restlessness within the pack. Beyond the borders, where the scent of the earth was not strangled by the odors of wolves, he felt a settling in his heart...a flicker of peace that worked out all the little knots and kinks of his gathered shoulders.
It was upon the bank side of the nearby lake that he first saw her. The russet spine caught his attention first...although it did not take long for him to note the golden contrast that split away from its mahogany topper. The tufts of her hair were curly, an unusual texture, and he was for a moment uncertain of the breeding that would produce such an uncanny clash of colors with the fine, coiling twists of hairs along with it. He lingered on the mystery for but a few moments longer before smiling amiably at the she wolf while she worked; the mildness of his greeting to be blamed on not knowing whether or not she was ready to acknowledge him.
set by Emy