soft spoken with a broken jaw

[Jefferson Soul]

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Two max, please! Preferably someone he hasn't met!
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Jefferson was not one particularly known for getting around. In fact, it wasn't very often that he left Phoenix Valley, but an old fashioned yearning for sightseeing and meandering that he quite possibly could have had rubbed off of Geneva resurfaced. The Patriarch didn't remember his childhood, but he could generally assume that he'd been quite the adventurer and vagrant in his youth; he had a great calling to the outdoors and the breath of springtime in his lungs was plenty to drive him from his ranch or typical patrol around the borders. He wasn't the youthful, quick-moving hybrid he'd been as little Clouded Tears Maluki, nor was he has whimsical as they said he'd been, but that drive to see new sights and explore new places had brought him away from the always-the-same Phoenix Valley, and here he was somewhere else, generally far from home.

The cyclops had never visited Crimson Dreams, though the pack was fairly long-established and, from what he'd heard of it, flourishing. He couldn't recall many faces he'd met from the pack; there had been Kansas and that small pup he'd found somewhere far from the actual packlands... Mati, was it? Right -- and she'd said something about having two mothers or whatnot. The cyclops could only assume one or the other, if not both, ruled over the pack; it was strange that he'd never met the leaders to Crimson Dreams, especially considering he was a leader himself, but then again... the other packs rarely dealt with Phoenix Valley, and so Phoenix Valley rarely dealt with them. Not often did Jefferson go out of his way if it was unnecessary, after all.

The Patriarch had no intention of boldly prancing about on lands that weren't his, especially since he wouldn't have been welcoming in the least had they done it to him. Geneva said she'd come from Crimson Dreams, hadn't she? Yes, she'd mentioned it at one point or another. They had lovely land, paralleled to the beauty Phoenix Valley had... hell, was he cursed with comparing everything to Phoenix Valley just because he had to lead that sorry pack of dreamers? The cyclops rolled his eye and shook his head, sarcastic even with his own thoughts, before turning away from the borders he'd been simply standing on without any clear intentions. Well, he'd seen Geneva's former home with his own eyes. That was good enough; he could ask her about the rest. He was the ambassador only when he needed to be, of course. Nonchalant and walking two-legged, the beast straightened the sling over his arm to a more comfortable position, rolled his shoulders, and began to stroll back the way he came, planning on turning off at a fork he'd seen down the road instead of heading home just yet.

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