Swiftcurrent Creek i'll be the outlaw, bounty on my head; you be my shelter, a safe place to rest

He listened as he waited. To the sparrows chirping in the trees. To the hum of bees as they awoke from their winter slumber. He listened for a reply, to some indication that someone had heard him, but he heard nothing until the sound footfalls reached his cupped ears, and he turned his head to witness the approach brawny male.

Jagwyr presumed this to be the alpha male. He looked the part; fit and healthy. The dark wolf had the years too. He was no yearling that had managed to scrape together followers enough to call himself a leader.

Contented by the caliber of the assumed patriarch, Jagwyr met him well, bowing his head and sweeping his ears back. His low-hung tail swayed in an amiable wag as he cast his gaze aside and watched the other male from his periphery.

"Thanks," he replied in his gruff, gravelly tone. "Name's Jagwyr. Looking to earn a place in your ranks if you've the room."