During the time he waited for a delegate to show himself, he mulled the facts over in his mind. Joining a pack would be necessary if he wanted to survive to winter. Joining this pack was no longer a possibility, it was a necessity.
When he noticed the other walking toward his position, he stood up and gave the approaching figure a quick salute; another habit he hadn't shaken since his time in his village's militia. Roland watched the visibly pregnant woman get closer and closer, smiling when she spoke.
"Well, the more I think about it, the more anything else but joining up with you folk sounds dangerous, and maybe even borderline suicidal." He replied with a chuckle. "It can be dangerous out here, and a death sentence if you're not careful."
When she addressed herself, he nodded, and extended his hand for her to shake. "Roland, Roland Malone." He said, smiling a bit.
Word Count :: 155 OOC:
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