He was dozing, as usual, when something interrupted his cozy slumber. Slay lifted his muzzle, tilting his head curiously at the sound of the howl, as he let a yawn escape. It wasn't a voice he recognized... With a wolfish grin, he sprang to his paws, scrabbling across the hard floor of the church. He had never gotten the chance to welcome a newcomer before! Cwmfen and Haku and Firefly were always patrolling the borders, having all the fun. He would have to race to beat them there!
As the big arctic male padded through the snowy packlands, he wondered if he should let Cercelee know where he was going. As their leader, she would be the one with the final say whether this unfamiliar fellow was to be admitted... but it wasn't as though she had ever said "no" before, and besides, he had been promoted high enough to accept new packmates. It was rare for Slay to like responsibility - ironic for one with a mate, the co-rank of Head Hunter, and a position almost on the council - but he had finally come to terms with where he was. It was pleasant, knowing that he was in the right place at the right time. He didn't have the need to wander anymore... and besides, this place had tied him down so securely, he couldn't abandon it if he tried.
"And here we are, mate. What brings you to the lands of Dahlia de Mai?" Now that he was standing before the stranger, Slay grew serious, still. His pale ice-blue eyes carefully studied the male, trying to gauge what sort of wolf he would be. This fellow had strangely intense green eyes... but his dusky fur was sticking up as though it had just been wet - yup, he smelled like the stream. Slay snorted, finding the overall effect nonthreatening. He could never stay serious for long, especially not when he was in love...
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
