Whitebark Stream Whose weapon is his word,

The darkest of the she-wolves took charge, parting her jaws to share with him her name and those of her siblings. Artyom listened quietly to her request with a soft earthen gaze, brow furrowed by sympathy. His own experience with fire was non-existent, though he remembered Dawn's recollection of a time when she'd been kissed by it.

A strange scent that lingered around this trio was an ominous one, and it made him feel a little uncomfortable. Not wishing to insult potential new recruits, however, the flaxed Alpha shrugged it off with an easy and encouraging smile. "I am sorry for your loss," he offered a gentle sweep of his dense tail, just as a supportive pack-mate arrived, and wanted desperately to believe that these survivors would not take advantage of Whitebark's kindness.

They could help each other, perhaps. The threat of a beastly wolfdog in the mountains sprung to mind, but he kept that sliver of information to himself for the time being. "We have a healer who can tend your burns," he shared of @Kaori, and recognised the weight of his sorrow in Aphrodite's absence. "Or simply a safe place to rest, if that is what you'd prefer?"