Stavanger Bay rocky (joining)

"Most call me Thistle," she announced out of the blue. Kovacs eyed her suspiciously, though there was very little movement in his face to suggest his expression had shifted. "Alright. Thistle," he repeated. "And yes, that goes without saying." Solo hunts were difficult for Kovacs, and he preferred to be associated with a pack. Healthy grazers were nigh on impossible to take down alone, and the sheer size of him made it difficult to keep up with smaller, faster prey. In a pack, he excelled - at everything except making himself loved for reasons other than his stature and good health.

But Thistle's questions had raised a suspicion. If she was specifically after wolves that could feed the pack, that meant a population of youth or the old and infirm. Kovac's turned his vast head towards the shrouded bay. He saw no other scouts. "Are you many?"