Leaves rustled and crunched beneath the gray brute's paws as he walked, his gait slow and leisurely, aimless in its purest essence. The sun was just starting to break the distant horizon, setting the sky ablaze with a random smattering of fiery oranges and reds. A cynical grin tugged at the edges of his lips as he recalled the last time he had seen such vibrant colors, how the flames had leaped across the smoldering tree branches and licked hungrily at his paws as he ran. How long has it been now? A year? A year and a half? He hadn't really bothered to count. He merely noticed the quiet change of the seasons from the minute corner of his subconscious that still cared. The length of time mattered not to him, anyways; the memories would always be fresh in his mind, dominating his sleep, drifting through the enigma of his brain whenever his attention dared to wander. It also did not help that whenever he glanced down at the side of his foreleg he glimpsed the long, pink scar arching from his shoulder to the place above his paw, the remnant of a burn he'd been too careless in the moment to avoid. The flesh there was hard and discolored, and he doubted his fur would ever grow back where it had been singed away. It's a shame. It's ruining my good looks.

He half expected a harsh, guttural voice to mutter behind him, "What good looks?" And he chuckled softly at his own naivety. He was gone. All of them were. It wasn't a secret, or anything he could ever try to avoid. They died, and everything dies at some point. He would too, at some time in the future, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it, not that he'd ever even have the capacity to succeed in trying. There wasn't anything he could do until then but keep moving he supposed, and put his skills to use where he could. Though, there didn't seem to be much use in a healer who wandered about alone, and who spent a plethora of his time lounging about in the sun or napping. He enjoyed those activities immensely, but... He couldn't really practice healing on anyone but himself. He remembered how ecstatic he'd been as a pup just beginning to learn the meticulous art, how he'd been determined to use his new skills to protect everyone, to keep them from hurting.

He cackled aloud then, his hollow guffawing wrought with pessimistic bemusement. I can't even believe it. How stupid that little guy was. His laughing dissolved into muffled chuckling as he suddenly paused in his venture, a new, unprecedented scent drifting into his nose. It was usually a smell he tended to ardently avoid: the stench of fellow wolves. His amused grin slowly melted away into pensive concern, a noticeable nervousness writhing through his gut. There were a few faint fragrances he could differentiate, but none were very potent. A small pack, then... He thought, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded the tall trees arching over him, the long shadows they cast as they hid the morning sun.

The last time he had interacted with a pack, one of their alphas had tried to kill him. The other turned out to be his father, as odd as it seemed, the wolf who was supposed to raise him, to show him how to hunt and fight. That pack was the object of his spite, the only enmity he possessed. They'd murdered his foster mother, and to his knowledge they were holding his friend captive, doing who knew what... Perhaps she was dead now, too. He hoped she was; he knew Argo would not protect her.

His first instinct was to turn away, to just wander off elsewhere like the coward he knew himself to be, but, oddly enough, he found he simply could not do it. His curiosity had piqued, he had to admit, and on some level of his mind he didn't want to acknowledge, he remembered how happy life had been when he was young and untroubled, surrounded by his little family. After several moments of silent hesitation, he finally lifted his snout to the air and released a long, sonorous howl. An easy smile slipped back onto his maw as he finished, and he took a seat at the edge of the broad forest, his light brown eyes relaxed in spite of his relentlessly cynical thoughts. Oh well... I might as well figure out what this is about.

(Ooc - short, sweet and crappy. Apologies for the wait)

Magnus had taken off with the rising of the sun, intent on bringing home a breakfast for he and his mate to share. Ever the hunter at heart, he couldn't shake the old habits of rising early to catch his prey unawares. It was part of his routine to hunt almost every morning, to ensure his pack was fed and cared for. The title of Alpha and all the authority it carried hung about him like a cloak, but it still felt odd to wear. No matter how he stood or shook he could not quite adjust to it yet. As easily as the authority and command came to him, the weight of it all would take some getting used to. Hunting, simply running, helped him wear it in a little. when the call came, he was glad for the opportunity to demonstrate his power. The deep and masculine call was the second he would respond to. He paused, calling to the sky in a strong, proud voice, notifying the wanderer he would be received and his pack that the breach would be handled. The moment his muzzle was closed he took off to see to the intruder, approaching the boarders swiftly.

He saw the grey male sitting patiently upon his borders. His features drawn into an emotionless mask he slowed his gait, sauntering up to the other wolf. "Mind telling me your name and the reason for your call, brute?" He had no patience for those who would waste his time. His eyes held no glimmer of delight, nor his maw any smirk of amusement. Until the male offered him something he would remain with these dead, emotionless features.

Samoset lifted his head slightly at the long, deep response that wound through the trees with the cool autumn wind, and he did his best to force down the anxiety stirring in his gut. Come on, I can't really be naive enough to think every pack is like them. He thought with a self assuring snort, a diminutive smile tugging at the edge of his maw. He knew he wanted to be of more use, even if it was all futile in the end. It might not be so bad to be in the company of others once more, doing the one thing he was seemingly capable of doing besides lazing about. He did not have to wait long for the owner of the howl to arrive, and he regarded the large, black furred male calmly, his demeanor relaxed in spite of the minute tremors of nervousness and caution pricking his paws.

The male's tone was stern and curt, as if he had very little time to waste, and his expression was nearly blank. His usual confidence shining through, an easy smile passed his maw, his pleasant expression concealing whatever distrust or uncertainty he may have held. "Morning sir. My name is Samoset, and I was just passing through really, until I noticed that these lands belonged to a pack." His tone was light and congenial, easy, as if he was speaking to a friend he had known for a long while. "I could tell there aren't that many of you, and I thought you might like to have a healer around." He could hear a quiet voice in his mind scorning him for his haughty disposition, and he thought for a moment that he was maybe recalling what Argo used to say, how he was arrogant and a show off. He pushed the notion away with an indifferent shrug; he really didn't feel like tip toeing the line between charisma and over confidence. If this was how he was this was how he was; there wasn't much value in rearranging his personality.

It was then that he noticed how his company was carrying himself, the authoritative glint in his austere gaze and the pointedness with which he looked at him, and he suddenly realized that this male was likely of some sort of distinguished rank within the pack. He chuckled softly beneath his breath before crouching slightly and bowing his head, not minding the act of submission in the slightest. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse my insolence." He stated, his tone smooth and humbled somewhat. "It's been awhile since I've met another wolf; seems I've forgotten my manners." He wondered if Mae would have been disappointed; she had devoted much of her time to raise a gentleman, after all. It didn't seem to resonate with her son at all, but he at least wanted to honor what she had given him.

The gray furred male fought the instinctive urge to cringe at the brute's growl of warning, and he kept his head bowed as he stiffly agreed with his remark regarding his hapless etiquette. He wondered if he should have turned and ran at that; that was his usual response to a threat. He'd never cared to learn how to fight and he held no desire to do so now. There was always a means of escape, in most situations anyways, so why train himself in combat when fleeing was so much easier? He couldn't give less of a damn about honor or pride; he'd be the first wolf to admit that he valued his own life before any ideal. Still, he remained where he was, the silence that ensued palliating his worry somewhat. He assumed he was just a bit over sensitive. He wasn't accustomed to pack life whatsoever, and though Raven and Mae were totally intolerant of disrespect, he knew his life with his family had to have been less strict than the structured organization of a pack. Eh, oh well... I guess I should just be careful of what I say.

He lifted his head slightly at the alpha's request for information, and though a diminutive smile tugged at the edge of his maw he remained crouched, figuring it was best to hold himself low. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Alpha." He replied politely, his tone calm and smooth. "A little about myself... Well, I was raised by my uncle and a friend of his, a she-wolf who basically fostered me." It felt odd to him to refer to his mentor on familial terms, but he supposed if it was the truth it was best to keep to it. "He had been a fairly prominent healer in the East lands of his birth pack, and he trained me as his apprentice up until his death. He taught me everything he knew, what herbs could be used to cure certain ailments, where to find them, how to set breaks and sprains, how to care for a birthing female. I've been traveling alone as of late, but there have been plenty of instances where I've had to practice on myself." The memory of the fire and the atrocious burn that scorched his leg was the first thing to come to mind at that; the scar was still there, and it was plenty visible, but the wound had healed nicely and he'd never had any issues with infection. "I'd like to put my skills to practical use, however; that's why I'd like to join your pack, if you'd have me."

There were other reasons besides that. There was better protection and security within the guarded territory of a pack, and he had to admit it would be lovely if he could rest or gather herbs without feeling as though he was risking his life. A warm den in the same spot was also an alluring benefit, or merely a place to store his supplies or eat a meal in peace. Jeez, I sound like an elder. He thought, a diminutive grin twitching at the edge of his snout. You really rubbed off on me, old man.

The grey furred brute listened quietly as the alpha inquired of his loyalty, and any minutia of discontent still writhing through his gut instantly melted away at the sight of the diminutive grin twitching at the edge of his maw. He sunk his paws into the dirt and shuddered slightly against the chilly autumn breeze, his expression pensive with silent consideration. He didn't know that he had really been loyal to anything before.

Yes, he had loved Mae and Raven and Ama, but ultimately he had failed them all. It was his fault they met the fates they did, and the reason was no noble justification. He had been a coward, put plainly. He did not fight with his foster mother and sister, because he had known, on some level of his mind, what the out come of that battle would be. He knew they would be defeated without a doubt, and still he abandoned them, because when it came down to it, he cared about preserving his own life more than saving theirs. He had put himself in grave danger to rescue Raven, but he wouldn't have lost him in the first place if he hadn't quarreled with him and stormed off. Was that all not disloyalty? There was no honor in running away from a battlefield; would this pledge require him to stay? To allow himself to be slaughtered for someone else's sake? It was an invariably high task, and yet he was uncertain if he could honestly commit to something so noble.

After a few short moments of contemplation, the male finally dipped his head in reply, his voice earnest and courteous. "I swear to serve you, your mate, and your pack to the best of my ability as a healer, and I can promise you no treachery from me." It was an honest statement, but it was all he could afford to give them. He wouldn't betray them over anything ignoble, and he was going to try his best to serve as loyally as he could. He was simply unaware of what could happen if his life was gravely threatened, and he calmly shoved the notion to the back of his mind. I'm sure it won't come to that. He thought in easy complacency, his usually mellow, carefree disposition returning as he forgot his troubles. And, if it does... I'll try to help, in any way a coward can, I guess.