The sky was slowly darkening, with low-hanging clouds that carried the promise of rain. The sun was still high, but hid behind the grey veil. A wind, born somewhere in the mountains, swept through the forest, rustling the leaves in the trees and the furs of the wolves living there. It brought with it the scent of a stranger.
     Yargol had been spending the day at the border of the territory, together with some of the other pack members. They’d been training, keeping away from the falls where most of the pack were, to avoid any accidents. The pups were growing, but they were still pups. Curiosity would get the better of them one day if they didn’t learn to stay out of the way. Yargol held no real love for pups, but he wouldn’t wish harm upon any of them. Especially after all that had already happened.
     They’d just been called back to the rest of the pack when the scent reached them on the wind. Yargol straightened up, sniffing the air. It was the scent of a lone wolf. He turned to face Sleazoid, Cerulean and Hamla, and nodded in the direction of the falls.
     “You go on ahead, I’ll be right back.” He turned away, trotting in the direction of the scent. Although he’d asked them to go on, he was convinced that they would be waiting for him when he got back. Stubborn bastards, the whole lot. He huffed amusedly to himself. Stubborn but, ultimately, good. Behind him, Yargol heard the others howling, replying to the rest of the pack. Yargol raised his own voice in a deep howl, joining them, and at the same time telling the stranger of their presence.
     It didn’t take too long before Yargol could tell he was getting close. He slowed his pace, listening to the birds chirping in the trees and the chattering of other animals close by. The sound of his own large paws, and of movement up ahead. He could spot the brightly coloured stranger through the thickets even before stepping into the clearing.
     “You know you’re getting close to a territory border, right?” Yargol stepped out into the open, and laid his eyes upon the fakarg in front of him. It was smaller than him, with fiery colours and blue eyes. Yargol stopped at the edge of the clearing.

Said lone wolf had barely begun to tuck the wide, brightly-colored wings against his body before the scent - and then the voice - had reached him. Immediately fluffing and a crest coming up, he turned to face the voice, stance wary but hesitantly curious and friendly. He did not want a fight, and this was a new land, he had to be careful.

His wings half-spread in an unconscious effort to make himself bigger, he blinked at the bigger wolf and flicked an ear. Another Fakarg? But ... where were his wings? Maybe they were extra-tucked so he could not see them but ...

"No ... no, I did not." He said finally  "I caught some scents on the wind but I came from the wrong direction."

The reaction of the stranger was immediate. It turned toward him, feathers and wings raised like hackles, although not in an aggressive manner. Yargol gave the fakarg the once-over before stepping forward.
     “Right. Let’s say I believe you. You look like a decent enough fellow.” He stopped in front of the stranger, his head held at eye level with the other wolf. He couldn’t pick out any other scents from him. A lone wolf, likely. “You’re getting real close to Qu territory. I suggest you turn those pretty wings of yours around and pick another route to wherever you’re heading.”

"I am? Oh..." The fluff banked down a little then, wings tucking back in though the crest was still flicking up at the stance from the other. Not aggressive yet, but still unknown and wary. "What is Qu? I've not long arrived, I don't know anything about this place. Is it a pack?"

He'd never really come across packs before. There'd been his family and that was it, really, part of the reason he'd flown all this way. "I promise you I didn't mean to intrude. The lands here reminded me of home and I was hoping to settle, but if the lands are taken then I suppose..." The waterfall had looked so inviting from the air though!

Yargol raised an eyebrow at the other’s phrasing. Not long arrived, and reminding him of home. There weren’t that many places too similar to Byoomi in Numoori that he knew of, and none of them far from here. To be fair, he didn’t know all of Numoori, but enough to assume.
     “Sounds like you’re not from around here”, he replied, his voice a low rumble. Yargol didn’t trust the stranger. He rarely trusted any strangers, and, since the disappearance of one of the pups in the pack, he favored suspicion to openness toward anyone he didn’t already know. Part of him wished he’d been born a telepath, able to read others at a glance, especially lately. He continued in the same low tone; not quite a threat, but definitely not open and warm.
     “We’re a pack, yes. We’re many, and we’re older than most other packs here, for a reason. If you’ve got no business here with us you’ll have to continue your sightseeing someplace else. There are more pretty trees to the south or east if you’re looking for warmer forests.”