Ravensblood Forest ain't gonna hide how I feel

Rowan trotted through the Teekons.
Older, wilder. His fur was shaggy and twisted into little dreads, making his form look much bigger. Stone glided above, banking like a seabird on the brisk ocean gusts. It was bloody, fucking cold.
And those sequoias looked very inviting. Nestled so sweetly in some mountains, protected from that buffering wind. 

He surged forward, hoping to get out of the fouler weather before he got too cold, yet as he neared the scent of a pack grew stronger.
Small in numbers, but most seemed healthy. He sniffed around, a good distance away, before lifting his head to look into the trees.
Stone landed between his shoulders, tilting her head to also peer into the depths. 

Rowan waited. If they were any good, they'd take notice of his presence.

Violante missed nothing - not here. Not with what was at stake. The life growing in her belly was reason enough. The male had not crossed Sacrarium's borders, but he was waiting, scenting at the air. The Vicera slunk from the trees, raising her tail briefly. From the invisible line, she called out, "Who comes to Sacrarium's borders?" Her tone was calm, but strong and clear. She dipped her head in greeting.

Rowan watched the slight woman emerge. For a moment, he saw his mother slinking out of Blackfeather.
His lips twitched up in a smile while his body lowered slightly, showing those submissive signs she would expect from him. 

Sacrarium. He liked that. He licked his teeth before answering. "Rowan Asenda-Blackfeather." He approached slowly. He could see how pregnant she was. The alpha of these woods. So, where was her mate?
Rowan stopped a few meters away from her, providing she hadn't warned him to stop approaching, which he would have done so immediately. 

"What is your pack like?" He wanted something safe and stable. Perhaps somewhere to further his abilities too.

The male gave his name, approaching her slowly. She regarded him evenly, saying nothing until he stopped a short distance away, inquiring about the pack. "We are a small but closely-knit group, all with complicated pasts. Sacrarium offers a fresh start - a second chance." That was the core of it - no need to go into the intricate details just yet. Then, the Vicera's own query, "Do you seek sanctuary?" That was what she always intended her family to be - a sanctuary, a place without judgement.

A home is what she described; one he'd been looking for for a while.
One where he could forget Blackfeather, the Melonii, and the failings of Ivory Rose.
This woman seemed like a strong soul, one that could keep this pack together. One that was easy to follow.
"Yes." He needed this.
This new start, new family. Something to protect, something to teach of his ways, and learn theirs.

"What is your name?" He thought it only right to ask.

Hope the assumptions are okay! If not I can edit <3 and happy birthday!

When Rowan gave his affirmation, Violante beckoned for him to cross the border, telling him, "Come, then, and I will tell you more of us as we walk." She smiled slightly, then when asked for her name, she offered, "Violante Cruor, Vicera - or leader - of Sacrarium."

Assuming he would follow her, she turned and headed towards the base of the western mountain, telling him, "There are caverns here that we make our dens in. We are still small, but that will soon be changing. We are expecting two litters, very soon." She picked her way through the sequoias, casting Rowan a sidelong glance, as she asked, "Tell me about yourself. What skills do you have, or what do you wish to hone?"

It's fine, and thank you!

He followed her across the border, casting for new and fresher scents to learn more about this pack.
He trotted beside her, tail waving slowly. Her name sounded so fierce, so strong. He regarded her properly this time, and he could see it in her. That fire and fight. 

A small pack, but two litters. How would they cope with that? Probably why Violante is so eager to get him settled. She needed another pair of eyes on the border and teeth for the hunt. 
Then she asked about him.

"Well, I'm learning to fight. I want to be a guardian and warrior like my Mother and mentor." He still missed Tundra; spotting her pale coat in the darkness of the trees. "But I also speak of the Daedra, like my Nona. They are the beings that watch over us." He gave her a look with a lopsided grin, "Don't worry, I won't go spouting my shit to those who don't ask." He'd learnt that sometimes, his Daedra weren't appreciated.

"What about you? And your pack, do you have a...uh.. direction I guess?" He thoughts packs should. Like Ivory Rose was meant to be a sanctuary for all.

Fighting was good - the pack would always need fighters to defend them and their young. "My mate, Avery, and Azarov, a Sentinel, can help you with that. Once I'm not whelping, I'll spar, too." Then he spoke of Daedra, a term which she'd never heard before. She frowned slightly, then replied, "You can tell me about them, if you'd like. I try to respect every wolf's culture." Then of course, a question for her. "My... only real hope is to grow my family. I want Sacrarium to be a safe space - especially for those who've never had one before." Here, she grimaced softly, then paused to mark.