Ravensblood Forest drop me in the water; try to make me clean

“Indeed,” he returns, studying the pale man and curious as to what flitted through his mind. He assumed doubt – but he did not feel the edge of uncertainty in his choice. They would mould the pack as they went along – they would find something that would work and work well, for the Mayfair intended for the forest to belong to them for generations of wolves. He was done running from his past and present – he sought the future.
 
His own lips quirked up almost darkly – any amusement that flickered in his eyes now held the weight of his losses from before. With a dip of his head, he would muse that he had enjoyed their brief conversation, but assumed it to be known already. With that, the stocky wolf roved forward, making to casually nip to his companion’s ear in a friendly gesture before he continued on his way. They would all figure out their place soon enough.