The swarthy giant sat in utter silence, eyes locked onto the near horizon that made up Sea Lion Shores. Joining these wolves had been an unexpected occurrence, not that he ever really planned in advance. It seemed like he had spent a lifetime, holed up in Porcupine Ridge shunning every living soul that he did not deem as a food source. No matter how long he had loyally waited though, the Northstar wolves never returned to their vale. And it was with slow understanding he came to the conclusion that they might never return, and that he would not hear a summons to the heart of the valley again, and so, reluctantly, he had relinquished his ties to the land and emerged from his solitude.
Perhaps subconsciously he'd traveled to the island to continue his life as a hermit, to put himself farther away from what he had lost, only to be welcomed into a new group of wolves. Despite his hesitance he could not resist the natural urge to be around his own kin again. It was difficult to fight instinct, it was really the only thing that kept him going. With a slow blink, Leatherface turned his muzzle away from the heat of the midday sun, adjusting his massive form to a more comfortable position on the cusp of the cliff he had temporary claimed as his perch.