558 words.
Kvæsir was silently admiring the brusque behavior of the one-eyed beast, though he couldn't help but think that the leader might get more positive results if he went about introductions a tad differently- you catch more with honey than vinegar, after all. Chuckling to himself- cliches were a secret favorite of his- he refocused his attention on Jefferson, nodding and glancing in some ambiguous direction that may or may not have been the route that Naniko had taken after her untimely disappearance.
A large part of him was glad that the pack apparently wasn't too active- he'd rather spend his time making acquaintances or doing something worthwhile than having to worry about what likely-boring events were about to unfold next. That was likely another of his poorer aspects; "group activities" weren't really his forte by any stretch of the imagination. Scouting, he supposed, would probably be one of the better things for him; the running would keep him fit and productive- though herding was truly where he thought the Valley pack would find his skills to be of the most use. Not that it was up to him, of course- and as of right now, he didn't really mind. It was more important getting in then bitching about what his maybe-future rank would be. It wouldn't surprise him at all if everyone helped each other out with their duties anyway; that was how it went, right? Each rank sort of blending into the others? Was it necessary for him to say something...? "That'd be great."
Noticing the change in expression on Jefferson's face at the mentioning of his- well, more hobby than skill- Kvæsir's tail gave a tentative wag and his opened his jaws as if he were going to speak. At the same time, Jefferson didn't really look like the kind of guy that would be impressed with such things. Maybe he'd leave further explanations for Naniko, whenever he saw her next. He thought she would be somewhat pleased to hear that he had been accepted, though they were mere acquaintances. Still, she had been friendly, and for that he was glad.
Torn between being glad that Jefferson hadn't seen him as a threat and irritated that he hadn't, the border collie nodded, quite obviously relieved as a broad grin stumbled across his lips and his tail began wagging in a frenzied motion. He may have great self-control, but he was in no way a wolf, and his body language remained quite different. No doubt the pack would immediately realized that he was most definitely a dog; whether or not that was a good or bad thing remained to be seen."Thank you, Jefferson; I'll do all I can for Phoenix Valley." The words tasted strange, but they flowed without reason for concern, and he smiled pleasantly.
The beginnings of his own snarky phrase was own the edge of his tongue when he bit down- if anyone was meaner than Jefferson, then he might have to rethink his choice. He disliked putting up with assholes in general, though he had a hunch that some of the things that Jefferson would do or say would end up being hilarious simply because of their level of nastiness. Instead he simply laughed, sidestepping and growing rather antsy; his excitement, though calm as such emotions go, was growing tangible.