[/html]Alder listened intently, wondering what their territory was really like as she explained the sort of members the pack consisted of. She described them as misfits, and in his time as a pup in Crimson Dreams Alder had known the Court to be that same sort of place. But it was more about a mixture of blood rather then lifestyles and histories. He hadn’t learned that completely until he had met others that lived within the Court, and his older brother had explained it to him. I enjoy it here. I was born in Crimson Dreams, a pack that once lived west of here. But I found my place here, in the stables. it was still hard for him to think about his mother’s pack, and how she was homeless. But her choices were her own, and he could not dictate what she decided. He wished for her to live here, but that was not her desire.
Wolves, and dogs and coyotes. It doesn’t matter what you are, you’re welcome. Other packs can be selective. Our King is mainly of dog heritage and some are more comfortable knowing that they won’t be frowned upon because of their blood. A different type of misfits, I guess. He explained, a smile coming at the end of his little speech.
Alder did not find her dangerous, and he would not guess that her past was littered with dark marks. Yet there were mysteries to every creature they met. His first impression of her was kind; her compassion for Couer apparent from the first moment Alder had come upon them in the free lands. That was how he judged a wolf.
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