Overture Downs New sights to behold, new adventures to be... made?

The man was reserved in a manner—hesitant with his words, and seemingly nervous. The Mayfair regarded him coolly, watching as the stranger’s eyes drifted down to his toes and then back up.

Faelan previously of Duskmire Ridge. Akavir appraised him silently—the youthful man was just at the age of dispersal, really—whether he was booted from the nest or held a bout of wanderlust, it was hard to say. He recalled his own days of such and gruffly wondered where the time had gone.

At the mention he was unfamiliar with the valley, Akavir gave a motion of his muzzle to the direction of his home. “Swiftcurrent Creek lies that way,” he offered. “This valley has two other packs besides us—Riverclan and Kvarsheim. We’re trying to forge an alliance now to keep some of the… riff raff from our borders.”