The snow crunched beneath the weight of his large paws, feeling the sting of something cold, something unforgiving, in the place of where, not too long ago, it had been warm. The season was of no particular matter to him. Unlike most, he held nothing against the winter’s harsh and relentless climate. When you had a pack; a stable home; a place to call your own . . . it was far too easy to simply retreat into the darkest, hottest corner of your den and forget every other thing you could be doing for the benefit of your pack. But today, he chose not to forget. He chose that everyday. Instead, he walked the length of Erenyx’s border for no reason other than the fact that it had been a while since he had. No part of him had been expecting a visitor today, such why the melody of a female nearby his whereabouts caused his ears to perk to immediate attention as opposed to their usual lazy flicker. In his mind, he calculated the distance he’d need to walk at a medium pace in order to find where upon their border she was positioned: perhaps no more than seventeen elongated strides?

Seventeen elongated strides later, he had reached her.

When alone, he allowed himself to realize how unbearably stark his fur - an array of pleasant earth tones swirling throughout a bronze base - was when compared to that of the pack’s newly bleached surroundings. This she-wolf, however, would perhaps have it the hardest of all, what with the velvety blackness that seeped from every muscle, every feature, of her body. Ever a male of his dominant ability to calculate, his dark gold eyes found a place within her own, searching for what was alive there like her thoughts were stored away inside of a filing cabinet that only he had access to. Few things could remain concealed from him, unless of course an individual tried hard enough to keep themselves locked up and barricaded from where his sights could manage to slither inside. There was not a single trace of hierarchy inscribed within the way that he held his frame. Instead, he stood before the she-wolf as nothing more than her equal; in the way that, perhaps, a fellow loner upon her travels would greet her. The idea of holding his rank, flaunting it, over the heads of newcomers and making them fold themselves upon the ground . . . one could say it didn’t register in his mind with the same appeal as it did the rest of his superiorly ranked wolves. He preferred to get to the point as quickly as he could, asking the questions that he was meant to ask and then choosing whether or not the lone wolf upon the receiving end would survive on the other side of Erenyx’s border. If it was up to him, it wouldn’t be any harder for females than it was for males - they’d all have an equal chance to prove themselves, and if they did, then that was that. But he was not the Alpha (nor did he have any particular desire to be), Ste . . . Teren was. Ah, but another new circumstance that they were all just beginning to get used to.

“This is the border of Erenyx that you stand upon, a land and pack under the reign of Alpha Teren.” Some could say that it was boredom reflected from the pitless, emotionless expression entwined upon his face. Some, of course, wouldn’t always be correct in their assumptions. No matter how viciously someone tried to dig into his eyes and read what was lain there, or tried to read every detail inscribed upon the flat line of his mouth and discover whether or not there was the hints of a smile or a sneer, they would come to exact same conclusion: there wasn’t a conclusion to be found. Try again, maybe, for the sake of wasting your time. “What is your name, and your purpose?” Most would usually go into a full-blown, detailed rundown of what their name was and what their rank was (in other words, why they were so important to Erenyx and deserved to have your nose rubbing against the bottom of their paws.) It was a habit, since there wasn’t another term he’d use to describe it: he never gave his name first. Or his rank. Sometimes, not even when he was asked for it. He had never shown any interest in commonalities, or the customs of accepting wolves seeking a pack. If she happened to be so curious, her fur crawling and her paws itching, to know his name and under what title he was representing Erenyx, then sure. Why not.

That is all.

That is all, and yet it’s so much. He found her word choice to be peculiar, for he had never heard someone refer to the receiving of a pack to call their own a “free pass”. In Erenyx, one would learn quickly that nothing was free. Especially, albeit with a slight hesitation on his part to admit, for her gender. He was obligated under no customs other than his own to make sure she understood the price of joining this pack in particular. There was no way for him to conjure up her background and see what kind of work she once did; no way for him to know with certainty that her former abilities would come in handy when she was forced to prove herself to Teren as being more than a useless female. Since he wasn’t aware of what kinds of talents she harboured, he was required to ask to make sure he wasn’t opening the path across their borders to someone who didn’t deserve the opportunity. “I must inquire as to what talents rest inside of you. Females have to work harder to prove themselves within these lands, so it’d be beneficial not just for this pack, but for yourself, if you have a certain amount of admirable skills to offer to us in return for your free pass.”

Just because he didn’t personally agree that females had to work harder than males, didn’t make him any less inclined to enforce the rule. This she-wolf, Pandora, wouldn’t be kept in the dark about the way that things worked around here. He wanted to make sure that she knew exactly what she was asking. If she had any doubts about what she was capable of doing, or any doubts at all, then it’d likely be in her best interest to turn around before it was too late. Erenyx was home to the unforgiving - many of them had come to see that far more clearly than before when the heart of their former Alpha male was consumed as fiercely as if it were the flesh of a doe. The reminiscence of that experience was still fresh in his mind, but if it had managed to disturb him at all, he didn’t feel it. As of right now, he was focused on nothing other than this ebon female. It was the least he could do for a loner in search of a permanent residency. She was lucky, to say the least, that it was him out of the two superiorly ranked males that came to greet her upon this border. He knew better than to assume that Katyusha would be out-and-about on patrol, and Nyx could, at times, be no less vicious when it came to handling outsiders. He was the only member of hierarchy within this pack that gave everyone a fair chance; that didn’t jump to conclusions; that didn’t immediately seek to challenge. Luck was such a stupid thing to believe in, but she undoubtedly had some on her side.

He listened to the words of her past with disinterest in his eyes, though he remained politely silent regardless, knowing that - for whatever reason behind her enlightening him of this - it had something to do with making him see, and see clearly, that she would be able to be of use to this pack. an Executioner's title was one foreign to his ears, and for the briefest of moments he wondered why it had failed to become a rank throughout these lands. He mused the likelihood that Steele once could have found use in such a ranking, and that perhaps Teren would find use in such a ranking - but neither seemed like the type to allow another wolf to do the killing for them. That was the problem with so many wolves of service in his pack: so few of them had a problem with killing, be it cold-blooded or with purpose. He supposed that he was no different, and thus not one able to think such things. He’d kill if it was necessary. And he’d be able to do it without feeling any shame, any guilt, or any remorse because such petty emotions couldn’t plague him. They didn’t have the power to.

“I’m not without the ability to realize potential when I see it. I believe that you’ll be able to excel across this border. It’d be appreciated that you’re so willing to offer loyalty,” the multicoloured Delta turned away from the she-wolf then, taking a few perfectly articulated steps back the way he had came. “However, loyalty is something proven, not promised. Consider this your opportunity to prove it, Warrior Pandora.” With that said and done with, he traveled briskly into the foliage, intent upon the path that would lead him back to Erenyx’s camp with their newest addition. He didn’t bother looking over his shoulders, or pausing to listen for her footsteps. She had made it clear that she wanted the chance to be a part of Erenyx, and now having that chance, he believed wholeheartedly that she’d be following him. He had no desire to test the abilities that she spoke of, but it was promising that she’d be willing should another member be less convinced by mere words. With that kind of outlook, and the background of a so-called Executioner, she’d hopefully manage to survive.

[Change your name to Warrior Pandora whenever you get a chance! You’re officially accepted into Erenyx and may post freely in any territory that you choose.]