road

Tonravik had found another familiar scent among the many, and she blinked slowly. The Tartok wolf had family here, then, and it was a wolf that she knew of and had once held leadership over. In Tartok, it still remained the same; there were many leaders, and one that reigned supreme. In time, she and her many siblings—when her mother was to retire by way of death—would fight to become supreme. Siku was the matriarch, now. Tonravik knew with certainty that she would be the next. Her femininity meant nothing in battle, and this her brothers knew well. There was little femininity to her aside from the part that she carried. She was savage, brutal, uncouth, and unemotional. Her ambition lay in power alone... and continuing the family name. As any wolf of Tartok, she sought to make Siku proud; it was a difficult feat, and even then, it felt near-impossible. The woman's critical eye was unmatched.

The black wolf did not much care for servicing Fox, but would. It was not out of kindness, but instinct, the desire to protect. This was not family, but it was pack nonetheless. For that, Tonravik would bring to an end any that thought it wise to trespass against them—the temptation to eradicate was one that could not be ignored—and so long, powerful strides kept her close to the borders.

Always early to rise and late to bed, Haunter spent a lot of his time at the borders or hunting. Today the latter choice was bypassed in favor of a lack of appetite, so he took to his usual rounds. The black wolf had never much cared for greeting newcomers, and if it were up to him they'd all be chased away on the simple principle that wolves were meant to steer clear of marked lands and some chose to hang around anyway just to "see what would happen." It sickened him.

He was just grimacing to himself on this fact when a new scent reached his nostrils, and he found himself looking ahead as a dark figure moved languidly towards him. Haunter paused on spidery legs, yellow eyes watching the large female without open wariness or interest. He seemed to be just looking, his one ear twitching slightly. Fox's scent drifted to him, and he knew that this was one of their own, so he withheld any aggression he felt then and simply waited until she got close enough to hear him rasp out a question.

"What's your name, newcomer?"