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[Phoenix]

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He couldn’t understand the appeal of wanting to mimic the lifestyle of a self-destructive race. Phoenix understood the appeal of using their inventions, yes, but he made sure he never became dependent on them. His old den used to be lined with blankets—a luxury, since he could very easily live without them (and had for the longest time). The paint—definitely something nobody in the pack needed, but this was more for the sake of future generations’ curiosity than anything else. His new tattoo—well, admittedly that had been carved with a human tool, but it was certainly not anything that he needed. He was also learning how to hunt with a bow and arrows—more of a hobby than anything else. Everything he used, he didn’t really need. But they could still be fun, just so long as he remembered that he was a wolf and not a human. As soon as he saw the “ladder” Phoenix put down his cans of paint and carefully climbed up to see what the other wolf could see. The ladder creaked and protested under his considerable weight but did not give. Once on the roof Phoenix swayed with momentary vertigo before adapting and regaining his sure footing. He treaded the tiles carefully, making his way closer to the other wolf, finally getting close enough to get a good whiff of his scent. So, Jaded Shadows. Phoenix’s experiences with the members of that pack thus far were few and not pleasant (the first one admittedly his fault but an accident). However, he was going to let that affect his chance to make a new friend here. “You’re right. It ain’t that interestin’,” the massive male declared after taking up a position beside the other wolf and getting a good look for himself. However, if he squinted one eye and strategically placed his thumb and index finger before his face, it almost looked like the house across the street was small enough to hold in his hand. “I’m Phoenix, alpha of Storm, by th’way,” he said after dropping the silliness and turned towards the Shadowlands wolf.

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