Delwyn looked out of place rolling in a patch of flowers: his arctic white fur wasn't seasonal. He was a white puff ball sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the purples and greens of spring. He had no fear of danger: his elders, related to him or not, had tried time and time again to make him understand the dangers of going off alone, of predators, and potentially even other wolves. What started as naivety was slowly evolving into a kind of reckless courage as the pup started to grow larger. So when he smelled a stranger approaching him, there was no caution in him, just a good natured, if somewhat naive, smile and warm, inviting eyes.
Delwyn had met several new wolves during his formative months: Cerridwyn, who had taught him of spirituality, Domonick, a stranger being welcomed into the pack, and Ty, the first warrior Delwyn met besides his father. Delwyn also had siblings, so he never lacked for company among his peers. However meeting another youngster was a new experience, and Delwyn loved new experiences! "Hello there!" he said with a grin, "I'm Delwyn! What's your name?"
Harlowe was significantly older than Delwyn, but Delwyn was nothing if not outgoing, and he didn't display any signs of submission towards the adolescent before him. The most important thing Delwyn had learned about friendship was that it was a reciprocation of mutual respect; he would never be the sort to unquestionably submit to others. Instead, he stood before the larger male with a broad grin and a wagging tail, waiting to hear a response.