Blackfoot Forest Where's your kingdom? What's the matter?

The man welcomed him to join his pack, and a smile tugged at Corvus' lips for the first time during their interaction, which was quite unlike him. "In time, I hope to see you become more than that," He added.

I will, Corvus promised, and he was not one to make promises he couldn't keep. Maybe, just maybe, this pack would not be so temporary. He hoped fate turned out that way, but only time would tell, and he was too wounded from his past to allow his hopes to truly soar. The man moved to return to his mountains then, motioning for him to follow. Corvus had forgotten he came here to rest until then, but he was no longer tired.

He walked in step with the other wolf, who then introduced himself as Stigmata. A strange name, but he'd heard stranger, thoughts briefly flitting over to Treason. It was intruiging to him how many wolves carried such negative names with indifference and even pride. Perhaps it helped them embrace their pasts, he mused.

Stigmata next asked if he had a name, and he curtly supplied it: Corvus.