Having been occupied with skulking about in the east, Skoll Archer had decided that it was time to come home. Upon first impression, everything was as it had been, except for the fact that his mother's scent was not a prominent along the borders as he would have expected. Regardless, at least his step-father and his aunt Sorya were still around; and, he supposed that was better than no one at all or the other subordinates per se. The wolves of Willow Ridge required loyal and intimidating members to make up their ranks, if Skoll was not one of them, at least his superiors were there.

The prince had just managed to ease himself across the borders by following Angier's most recent trail when a youthful voice fluttered up into the air. He scowled to himself, ridges forming all up and down the bridge of his muzzle. If the sun had not been such a nuisance already on this partly clear wintry afternoon, then adding some sort of high-spirited stranger on top of it all was just downright irritating. Skoll had no tolerance for it. Besides, if she kept up such a stupid song, his little brothers - the two that remained, anyway, along with the annoying red-headed kid - would hear her and be drawn out to the borders. Something had to be done...

His tongue stuck out and dragged itself down the front of his nose. On four spindly limbs, the young royal sped off back over the territory lines to meet this stranger and figure out what business she had in floundering about near his mother's part of Relic Lore.

It wasn't hard following her; all the Archer had to do was to listen for her frolicking footsteps until he found her trail. From there, he swiftly stalked after her with his head held low and his tail held out behind him until he finally caught sight of her. Not too tall or unique, appearance-wise, but not unattractive either. In fact, she reminded him very much of the "mouse queen" he had encountered when he was a cub. His brows rose and his gait slowed as his head came up. Even his ears, which had both been pressed against the back of his neck, came forward enough to convey his piqued interest.

As not to seem rude, when she came to what might have been a gap in her song, he loudly cleared his throat in hopes of catching her attention.

Much like one of those busy-tailed squirrels, she jounced about on her own merry way until he managed to catch her attention. His whiskered brows came down now into a more neutral expression as she greeted him with a chirp-like "Hello, I hope you didn't mind my singing!" The prince could have frowned; females like her were definitely not the norm in his corner of the world. His mother, his Nonna Skana, his sister Morganna, his aunt Sorya, his cousin Taima and the other women that made up Elettra's hierarchy were absolutely nothing like this little, cheerful thing. Perhaps that was a good thing...

"Not at all," he said slowly, the forgiving words rolling off his tongue as though it were something he had practiced pronouncing syllable by syllable. Skoll kept still, holding his ground as he, too, eyed her. He watched as her eyes roamed over his legs, up and over the features of his face. It was gratifying, really, no one other than his mother ever really looked at him in such a way; but, where Elettra typically did it as to be certain of his well-being, this young lady was definitely sizing him up, trying to glean from his scent who he was and who he might have belonged to..

"Forgive me," she apologized, "for I should not have let my eyes wander..." The prince blinked, silent for a moment. For, she had said. No one ever used the word that way. So proper and refined. But then came the "What brought ya out here? Was it me?"

Ya.. What brought ya...

Skoll couldn't hold back the beginnings of a contemptuous smile, the traces of a sneer that threatened to mar his possibly handsome looks. Angier - and Morganna - were the only ones who replaced their "you's" with "ya's" and their "your's" with "yer's". It seemed an opportunity was at hand and it got the gears in his head turning at full speed.

"To be honest, yes," he answered her, watching as she wiggled with what was probably excitement over meeting another kindred spirit. He took  a somewhat casual step towards her then remained where he stood, wondering if she would also draw closer. "I don't hear singing all that often. My family doesn't really do that; but, your voice is lovely." Sympathy, flattery... and pure cajolery.

"My name is Skoll Archer," he offered to her, his chest puffing out just enough to show that he held quite an amount of pride in his name and title, "Prince of Willow Ridge." His tail came up in a genial wag. "With whom do I owe this pleasure?"

Shivers rushed up along his shoulders and spine at the sound of his name after the title of a prince. It had to be the way she had enunciated it all that sold him about her, eradicating at once all his want and desire to keep her away from his lands. "Piety," he tested her name on his tongue as if he could actually taste it. "Pretty." She had drawn closer to him now, just close enough for him to see what kind of brown her eyes were ("dried riverbank mud," he had decided) and if the majority of the whiskers on her muzzle were black or white (black, it seemed). If he couldn't scent her before, he could definitely get a whiff of where she had recently been and confirm for a fact that she was roughly the same age as him. The discovery prompted a butterfly to take wing in the confines of his chest.

Again she averted her gaze and the Archer seized the chance to look her over once more as she asked about his place and if there was space for someone like her. Had Skoll already been Leader, all the women - save for his mother and maybe his aunt Sorya, since he might have thought to "marry" Morganna off to some other neighboring pack for the sake of getting her out of his way and forging an alliance for Willow Ridge - would be gone from their ranks; and, this beautiful thing, this lush-furred Miss Santoro could have her own special place in the hierarchy.

His eyes narrowed though upon counting the number of females beneath his mother. There were eight of them; four Archers, Quil and her sister (whom he had been wanting to meet but kept shrugging the idea away), Taima (his supposed cousin on Angier's side of the family), and then that Enoki-lady whom he had only heard about in passing. His ears stood up straight as a malicious idea came to mind; he would attempt to pick one of them off... but which one?

Quil and her sister, he knew, were valuable to his mother and him, if he could still convince one of them to be his. That bout with Quil, however, told him that he barely had a chance now; and, if Cinder was anything like her sister, he would have just as tough a time wooing her. Enoki, being far up in rank, and much older and experienced, he figured might not be as gullible, but Taima... if he could just get to her boy, that red-headed kid, or somehow actually make sure that she was never going to come back, what with her constant desire to wander away from the Ridge... maybe then Piety would have a spot.

"Yes," he said again, his voice conveying his excitement and eagerness of the newfound idea. "I think we can squeeze you in somewhere, and I'm pretty sure we could benefit from having someone as delightful and lovely as you around." His tail waved slowly from side to side and he took a few steps as to angle himself in an invitation to start walking her towards his domain. "If we start walking there, we can probably catch my mother during one of her rounds."

He made to take the first step of what would be a short journey to the borders of the Ridge, but stopped to look at her face, to behold what light and wonder might lie in wait for him there in her eyes and smile. "But, first, I have to ask... do you trust me, Piety?" This would be the first in a long list of questions but the most crucial; many who came upon the Prince and Heir of Willow Ridge did not find him trustworthy upon fist impression.

This was certainly not the Skoll anyone knew. No one, except for Skana, had ever taken the time to see this side of him; and, it was strange... to feel as though that she trusted him wholeheartedly, to pull from her words a genuine lightheartedness? Whatever it was, he couldn't place a paw or nail on it. It was something he had never experienced before with someone his age. A camaraderie that pulled from him a number of things that he thought had been stolen from his childhood - laughter, playfulness, and the sort of uplifting type of feeling that had only come from being praised. And, those things were offered to him without rancor or strings attached.

Morganna and Quil had spat in his face; Asriel had done nothing but put him down and used him for his own selfish deeds; Titan and Yuka had teased and taunted and pestered him. But, Piety... just by first impressions, alone, Piety was nothing like them.

She didn't question him or eye him in a way that suggested that she knew he was up to something. She was drawn to him in a rather different way, or so it seemed; and, when he had taken that first step forward, she did too. In any other encounter, the party in question usually took his move as a cue to put up their guard. Miss Santoro had done the opposite and she appreciated his compliments in addition to expressing her interest in his pack.

Furthermore, she verbally confirmed that she trusted him right from the very start and, this time, Skoll had wished nothing but the opposite of ill will and trickery upon her. She was different; and, he was going to show her what a life with him could be because he felt she deserved it. With the way everything had unfolded, he suddenly felt the desire to protect her, to shelter her, to ensure that this delicate, nymph-like spirit of hers persevered. Untainted, unsullied, and inculpable.

She asked him if he had anymore questions and as he began to lead her towards the place where he had initially exited Willow Ridge, he mused with a toothy smile of his own, "Hmm... Well, I suppose I ought to ask, is there something you've always wanted to do when you grow up?"