The Callow knight shouldered his pack, his patched cloak blowing in the wind behind him. The day was dreary, overcast, and his hood was drawn, concealing his face in shadow. He'd lingered on the off-chance the he might catch sight of the dog woman who stalked the wolves of New Dawn. Honestly, he didn't know why he bothered, it's not like they were dear to him. And they were wolves...As if he needed the trouble, but the young man had always been a glutton for punishment. Wolves held little love for the bastard wolfdog, that much was true wherever he was seen to roam. Nova Scotia hadn't exactly lived up to his expectations so far. There'd been accusations, and glances guarded and suspicious aimed at the young knight just days after arriving in the colony. If it weren't for...No, he didn't even want to think of it. The man's face floated in his mind's eye whenever he considered leaving. The image of his irises staring blankly into the evening sky as trickles of blood flowed thick and congealed upon his fur had been burned into Alister's memory, and like a brand in his flesh it would remain forever.

He was not a boy anymore. The wide-eyed child had fast become a man, and he had learned the hard way that the world was a dark and bitter place. Worse yet was that he still felt compelled to protect it. The words of Fayne and Jiva had stirred him into action, they'd warned him that it was not safe, that he should keep his sword close and his eyes open. He was sure of their plight, and still he rushed headlong into danger, compelled by the oaths of men long dead. It was not his battle, but he would do whatever little he could do to help. In the least he could keep an eye out for the yellow dog, and alert the pack if he saw anything suspicous.

He didn't really have much to go on, just that the woman had slaves, and had taken one of the pups hostage, a boy. Other than that he was pretty much in the dark, but how hard would it be to spot a woman with cart and slaves in tow? And even if the woman spotted him first he was far from defenseless, he wasn't sure how his skill could match up with the woman's, but he was confident enough in his training. He could hold her off until others came.

He tread as light as he could, shield thudding dully against his back as he trekked away from the city and closer to the pack borders. He kept a respective distance, careful to keep out of sight and smell. He did not wish his presence to cause another incident, as it almost had with Fayne. Though she had come around in the end. He remembered with gorgeous she-wolf with a fond smile. Their meeting hadn't started off as he would have liked, but it ended on a decent enough note that he'd not harbored any ill will towards her. In fact, he'd almost hoped to see her again, though for her sake it was best he didn't. Her pack needed her. For now he settled himself amongst some brush in the dryest part of the pines of the Black River Reserve, his hazel eyes ever watchful.

He ducked under the strap of his shield and placed it aside, putting his back against the trunk of a pine. He kept his hood up in the chance that it began to rain. The clouds loomed dark and damp overhead, threatening as ever, but he was prepared. Not that his cloak was all that sturdy, but it was certainly better than nothing. It kept most of his face concealed with nothing but his brown muzzle poking out from the forest-green fabric. He sat with one knee up the other leg flat on the ground, prepared to stand at a moments notice. He shouldn't be here, he knew that, it was only a matter of time before something happened. His ear twitched suddenly as he heard the bark of someone drawing near. He leapt to his feet, hand on his sword hilt, watching as the woman stepped out from behind some brush.

She was unclothed, unarmed, all wolf, and his fingers slowly withdrew from the sword’s hilt. It was an awful habit to so quickly reach for his blade, but one couldn't be too safe, not in these times. "Forgive me, my lady. I didn't see you there." His brown tipped tail was low and still, he flattened his ears at the tone of her voice, keeping his eyes on the ground. The Callow knight drew away his hood, shaking out his short-cropped mane. So she could get a proper look at him. A cream-hued hand came to tend to it. He combed it through and ruffled it up the front. How he hated it when his hair was disheveled like this, and raced quickly to remedy it.

The woman was abrupt and straight to the point, introducing herself with an edge of authority to her otherwise soft voice. His suspicions were confirmed when she stated that she was from New Dawn, and an Epsilon at that. "I'm Alister Callow, a pleasure, my lady." He replied, bowing. She was not so hostile as Fayne had been at first, and he was grateful for it. It would be tiresome to have to undergo the entire ordeal once again, he decided he'd make it easier on the woman. "New Dawn, huh? I've uh..met some of your pack mates." He'd met two in fact. "I've heard of your troubles...Thought I could help...I don't know...keep watch?" He hoped this would explain to her his good intentions.

"Tell me, how is Fayne?" He asked curiously after a beat, wondering after the compassionate silvery woman. "I'd almost thought you were her." Or hoped. She'd been kind to him, one of few. Even young Jiva had given him a bit of a harder time, though he'd been eager to learn the knight's teachings. "And Jiva?" his tail wagging all the same. "Is he still practicing?"

Alister was used to scrutinizing glances and less than cordial greetings, though this woman didn't seem all that bothered by his presence. Much unlike Fayne who had been quite vicious at first, despite the fact that all he'd really done was grasp his sword hilt. The steel had not even seen the light before he released it in this case. The golden woman was direct and appeared confident in her station. She did, however eye him quite curiously, though soon dismissed his apology. He ruffled his mane again self-consciously as her doe brown eyes took in the sight of his clothed state. This feral pack confused him, as had Fayne's distrust for his sword at first. Weapons themselves were not dangerous, only those that would turn them on another in anger or cruelty. He would do neither and kept the blades with him only for his own defense, or the defense of others. The dagger was seldom used for anything besides cutting meat, whittling, and other mundane tasks. The sword, however was given the utmost care, and was polished and sharpened daily. The steel shone bright as if newly smithed. He could oft be seen wielding it with grace as he practiced his stances in his idle time.

As for his clan, they were of a more advanced culture. Many of the higher ranking wolves originated from England, and so carried their crafts and traditions with them. In the years after their journey to Canada local wolves joined them and soon, with their help, made a new home for themselves. The clan swiftly became a prosperous one, with a complex two tiered hierarchy. The warriors, although part of the whole, lived a life on the edge of their less martialy inclined brothers, leaving the governance to the elder tier, while they trained soldiers for the war between dog and wolf, a dispute nearly as old as the pack itself. Their hatred for their domestic cousins, quickly becoming a prejudice the Callow man grew to expect.

To her questions he shrugged casually. "Just a couple weeks. I stayed in the city for a while." He was careful to avoid her eyes when he spoke in his pleasantly accented voice. He didn't want her to get the wrong impression of him. This was not his home, in fact, he had no home. It didn't bother him much, his clan had never been home to him. The wolves made sure of that.

His face fell slightly when she'd admitted being reclusive. "Oh." He said softly. He waved his palms at her offer. "No need, I was just...curious." New Dawn needed their Deltas afterall. They didn't need some wandering knight pestering them with idle pleasantries. "That bad, huh?" He asked, empathetic to her struggles with duty and keeping up with her pack. "I guess you'd welcome a pair of outside eyes, then, to...uh, lighten the load? I'd assume then, Epsilon is some sort of warrior title, yes? You are your packs defender?" By the way she spoke he was almost certain of it. "In that case, it's good we've had the chance to meet."

The woldog was taken aback by her last question, and quipped a reply. "Oh, I dunno, just some nobody who's decided, against his better judgement, to help some pack he's no true obligation to. Isn't that enough? Really, what kind of question is that?"