Thoirni had been a great aid on this trip. The shifted male lead the horses and moose, Tharin proudly trotting ahead as they headed down to the warrior pack. The request to show pleasure in the gifts that had been offered had resulted in this parade. Horses, as far as he could tell, were common in the pack, and should be welcomed. The moose was still alive instead of dead, due to Tharin's lack of understanding about what made Aro's deer unique. He thought they would like a live moose, despite the difficulty in catching it.
Reaching the border he lifted his head, a deep call echoing through the pack. His voice was deep, the howl of a pure wolf. There was no changes or inflections from mixed breeds, asking for the attention of the leaders inside this pack. Falling silent he sat down, tail properly lowered, though his ears remained high. He was representing his pack after all, and while he held respect for them, he would not show his pack as weak before another.