Blacktail Deer Plateau Abisselfa

On the border. ^^

The snowstorm had fucked everything up. They’d been on track, they’d made progress, and then the weather had cursed at them and called them fools.

Reno stood near the pack’s marked boundaries. He could smell a few numbers from within. There was a chance that Colt or Sadey had ended up in one of the gangs in the area. The man squinted as he debated calling upon their numbers. If they had a dislike for strays, there’d be no chance of finding Colt in their territory.

But maybe they’d seen one of them in passing.

Reno called out to anyone who might have been near their border.

though ingram worries about basilica's murky future — for the threadbones offer no clarity when he does stray to them — he keeps up with routine.

for his own sanity, mostly.

a call sounds from a section of borders up ahead and though he was intended to get to that section along the way, he makes a beeline for it.

mercurial gaze of seaglass takes in the stranger he finds there, letting out a low rumble of greeting.

this is basilica, ingram speaks. what is your business here?

A man approached like a shadow and spoke with rumbling voice. The cowboy squinted at him, taking in the shape of the stranger with a curious glint in his goldwash gaze. Their group was called Basilica. It was a funny name, for a simple man like Reno.

He nodded his head and hummed in understanding. He had his doubts that any of the others were near this man’s brood. There was a dangerousness in his prowl and his stare. Reno didn’t show his thoughts. He kept a stoic distance, a non-threatening pace or two away from the other man.

Snow storm came through. Lost a’few of my group. Was wonderin’ if ya saw anyone ‘round these parts, he explained his business in a light tone.

the man at his borders speaks with an accent that ingram finds as strange: speaking of a snow storm and a few of his wolves getting cut off from the rest. for a haughty moment, ingram considers this is why it was best to have a singular territory; but he does not know the situation, drawing conclusions from the vague information he was given.

there have been no stragglers here for some time. ingram tells the stranger. there had been a flurry of activity though: the pack searching for the ungrateful, probably dead child, and then the mess of ash paw's heat and pack and lone wolves invading his territory.

he doesn't add, that at any rate, he would not give them shelter nor food. he wasn't a kindhearted man by any means and after being burned the last time he'd let someone else be his sympathy he wasn't about to do it again.

they two chat for a while longer though ingram has nothing viable to offer the stranger and so the dreadfather watches as the other departs.