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499
ROAR
He smelled someone's approach, a male, thinking it likely to be Conor, though he couldn't be certain as he'd never met the male. Still, these borders smelled strongly of the same, which was common - borders often smelled of alphas more strongly than the rest of them. He sat as he allowed him to approach him at his own leisure, remaining seated so as not to give any indication of hostility, on many different conscious and subconscious levels of communication. Dawali hesitated for a moment, not quite used to having his name ring so familiarly on a stranger's lips. Then again, he did know and had known quite a few Dahlians and ex-Dahlians in his two years here, and as he had come to understand the packs here were littered with several large bloodlines. There could be many reasons to why this male knew his name, but he would not waste too much time pondering this. Smiling a little awkwardly, he simply rose and gave his usual bow to the leader, a polite gesture followed with a friendly smile. The russet male could not know for certain, but he took a chance and followed his instinct. "And you as well, Conor Soul" He wasn't sure whether he used his surname at all, in the same degree that Dawali did, and quickly added. "Please, call me just Dawali." He studied the male quickly now, weighing him up to his expectations. He was so young! So young, but he seemed amiable at first glance, and this soothed the Chief. He had not known what to expect, especially with the pack's history. It was bloody, and he knew it was not Conor's work, but often... as father as son. It wouldn't hurt to be cautious, but Conor seemed to be an honest soul, and Dawali appreciated this. "I've come to offer a trade with your pack, for anything from food to other supplies and animals. I have met the leaders of most of the other packs, but thought it was long overdue that I seek you out. I apologize if this is inconvenient, but I thought it practical to combine the two affairs, to save some travel time." Lanky cream-and-rust hands and arms moved in vague patterns as he spoke, emphasizing his words and the rhythm of the language. They pointed to Conor's bag when he mentioned "other supplies" and otherwise moved towards Belle and her satchels, as if to show him without showing him, what he had brought to barter with. The Chief smiled, excited to see the genuinely pleased leader. Jefferson was a good friend, but he was rarely this... open, perhaps. Savina was more of the regal type, and having taught and met so many of her children he saw her as a mother-type. This one, Conor, was a fresh face and young blood, and Dawali found it invigorating. Perhaps they had much to offer AniWaya, as well. They had certainly been of use in the past, though indirectly.