Ah, the evening air is cool upon your pelt and chilled within your nostrils, trotting along the boundaries of your pack's territory before night falls and sleep overcomes you. A nearby river trickles gently on, the wind sweetly blows through the branches of the conifers that grow in droves about your lands. A wee squirrel, sitting upon a rock with an acorn in his hands, doesn't seem to have spotted you yet. He seems to be putting great effort into cracking the terrible nut, and you're just about to approach when the fur on the back of your neck bristles just so. A musky scent filters through the air to you, sharp and curious, distinctly fox-like. You were certain you'd marked the boundary thoroughly enough to discourage other, smaller predators from wandering into trouble, but it seems one didn't catch the message. The squirrel appears to sense this stranger as well, shoving the acorn into one of his cheek pouches and scampering off to the safety of the pines. The sound of tussled shrub brush is soon to follow, preceding the entrance of one bright, gold-orange character; the male greets you with a sniff and a smile, neutral gaze waxing friendly. The fox-scent is indescribably stronger on his approach, cluing you that it may, in fact, be emanating from him. How strange!
"Hello, fair stranger. Please do not mind my passing through. I don't seek to encroach upon your lands, simply find a temporary pack to stay a moment with."
You tilt your head in curiosity for but a blink in time--this creature surely is a wolf, but a wolf who does not seek a permanent family?--before inquiring on the offending descriptor.
The male chuckles, his posture relaxed and surely unchallenging. He gives a light wag of his tail, glancing to the sky as if to pluck a wayward memory from the air.
"Ah, yes. I never get tired of answering this question, as many times as it's been asked. I almost hope for it, truth be whispered, but, I prattle on. I am but a ward of the Fangs of Malice, headed by the rancorous Sin-River." He pauses briefly, almost assessing your reaction, before proceeding. "Yes, the she-devil of many crimes herself. While I pledge my allegiance to her and her alone, I have always felt a sense of... wanderlust. One that plagues me, I fear, but something that I cannot seem to shake..."
Whether or not you've heard of this proclaimed she-devil, you are certain you have not heard this wolf introduce himself. Upon mentioning this, a shocked expression crosses his face, and he tucks his tail in embarrassment. "Oh, so I haven't. My name is Vulpos, on account of my vulpine coat and my peculiar heritage... I was raised by the little creatures as well; perhaps that's why I have a wandering itch in my paws."
Well, this Vulpos seems forthcoming enough... He could prove to be a worthwhile, if fleeting, member of your own pack. You float the idea as such, and his ears flick in consideration and slight surprise; he seems to display his emotions outwardly, so it's hard to believe he'd attempt to betray you.
"Hmmm... My stomach is gnawing at me a bit, and my poor paws are fairly tired... I would be very appreciative of this kindness should you not regret it. I have been told I'm very versatile; I can scout your territories, or watch your broods, teach them, maybe, and I suffice well as a chasing predator. Whatever you tell me to do, however, I will try my absolute... Again, I prattle. Please, lead the way."
You turn, tossing your head in the direction of your home. Vulpos quiets, taking in the sights as you both travel in relative silence. The male speaks to himself on occasion, bidding hello to a flushed bird, begging for a pardon to a leaf that falls into his path. What a strange wolf, surely, but maybe he has his strengths.
