Tucked against a hill side, in a cave under a rock propped up against a tree, is the home of The Warm Gales Pack. A silver and tan male watches over the small pack. A group are headed out to hunt, another wolf watches over a litter of puppies, a few wolves come and go. He looks up as you approach, his gaze turning from the wolf that's reporting on a scouting patrol to look at you. His response to your presence is surprisingly lax, but careful all the same. "Why hello there! The name's Roger, this is my pack. We're all friends here right?" It's a genuine question, his eyes are friendly and kind, but the stance he holds as he approaches you is strong and steadfast. "We like to always assume the best of folks, else this land turns into a dog eat dog world, and you look nice! You're free to come over for dinner anytime, just make sure you don't give me a reason to turn you into the main course." His smile is warm against his cold words, and after a quick round of introductions, he heads off, trusting you to not do anything regrettable while on his turf.
