King Elk Forest you've brought snakes to my garden
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#1
All Welcome 
Man, he missed the ocean.
 
Really, Sly missed Tortuga; he had been away from his home for the better portion of the last year and he hadn’t found much out there that could compete with the pirate life. Sure, there were plenty of women to pass his time, but the young man was certain that there was treasure on his horizon. He had wandered enough to know that good things found men who did not give up, and he wasn’t about to turn his tail and return to his mother. There was nothing left for him in Tortuga. He had burned too many bridges there and was in need of another life.
 
The golden wolf moved through the forest with a confident, lazy sort of swagger. The heat still had found a way to reach him through the thick boughs of the trees. It dappled his back in a shimmering sunlight coloration that almost caused his cloak to appear as though it were made out of flame instead of fur. The scent of others could be tasted on the wind that brushed against him. All at once, Sly found himself eager for the possibility of new blood.
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#2
The land was populated with new and ever-shifting packs, as she discovered accidentally a few times. That was fine. It was her kind of town. More people meant more opportunities. More chances. Hopefully, these packs were not closely intertwined and would actually allow her the chance to start a new if need be. Perhaps the better option would be to avoid making trouble at all, but she was not that kind of person.

Orson walked calmly through the woods, more on her toes now. She was not ready to get caught yet again by some weak-sauce pack borders. Perhaps when she had leverage or strength or numbers, sure. But she had no motive to be cocky and arrogant around pack wolves. Well, other than to piss them off, but that wasn't always great.

She snorted softly to herself when she saw the illuminated visage passing a few lengths in front of her. She wasn't sure whether to hail him or not; the last few times ended with her being menaced by pack wolves.
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#3
Fortunately for her, she didn’t need to hail him. Sly had a gift, you see. The young pirate was very capable of smelling out wandering women and offering his company to them. Shortly after she had noticed him, the gold-clad hound drew his crown upward, turned sharply and locked his seafoam gaze on the darkest of her markings. He enjoyed how earthy she appeared; almost envied the rich colors that adorned her cloak. Sly examined her for a moment longer before tossing his muzzle upward in a silent greeting. He wondered if she was looking at him, or if she had seen something beyond where he stood.
 
“You from around these parts?” Sly barked to her with a quick smile. He had stopped in his tracks to allow her room to approach, if she wished. The girl certainly had the advantage in that moment. With his back to her, it was almost foolish to behave so carelessly. The pirate knew better, but he fed on very few impulses. The risk he took with those he met were often ones that he could afford. Who could deny those dazzling eyes? That crinkly smile that stretched to them. He had to be harmless.