Swiftcurrent Creek tu olor

Akavir would have perfectly content to simply remain a spectator in the conversation—yet the sidestep of his companion indicated his moment of silence was over, and with a stoical glance to the she-wolf, he dipped his muzzle lightly in a gesture of greeting, his own form lumbering slightly closer.

“Akavir,” he offered, only to maintain a certain politeness. “Riverclan is a new pack to us. We’re only familiar with Kvarsheim thus far in the Rising Sun Valley. Which land do you occupy?”