The mountain was a familiar thing, although it was comprised of sharp stone and sheer cliffs, as opposed to solid ice. It was not unlike the glaciers of his homeland; a treacherous sort of mass that dared those foolish enough to explore it. Gale was such a foolish creature. He had been moving south for quite some time now, clinging to the mountain's jutting angles like a drop of water to a leaf - fluid in his movements, careful in his precision, and all the while waiting for the drop. The snow was a comfort to the northerner, and he found himself spending more time than necessary to get through it. Yet he did, and eventually the mountain gave up trying to fool him. The white wolf followed the natural curve of the trails with a heightened avidity, and eventually reached it's base - casting a stony look back, watching it's tree covered hills vanish in to the snow and mist.

What lay before him was a new experience, layered by a thin sheet of ice. The mountain had given way, and now Gale stood upon a grassy knoll; except, the grass was coated by the freshly fallen snow. Whatever greenery it boasted was lost - although sad piles of leaves collected along the tree-line, adding accents of darkness. The pale wolf crept through the area with a suitable level of caution, perhaps more than was warranted, while ears pivoted atop his head and eyes roamed. There was an odd scent here. It was different from the barren mountain - it was musky, warm, alive, telling him that there was a stranger here. Quickly, Gale lowered his head and began to snake across the field. He sniffed and searched, trying to discern if the scent he detected was fresh or old - the urine mark of a pack, or simply a traveller.

Mid stride, the boy caught sight of something moving. He thought at first that it was a mirage, as the ground itself fluctuated as if breathing; he began to follow, but the creature vanished. With a tilt of his head, he caught sight of the wolf that he had been so eager to avoid - she spat angry snow on to the exposed soil, and Gale watched without a sound. Perhaps if he was lucky, he could slip away before being noticed at all.

The woman was unlike any wolf he had seen prior; her fur did not hold the shining purity of fresh snow, nor did it resemble the pale greys of his brothers - it was far more garish. Gale watched her for a few moments, still undecided over which route he should be taking. In those initial moments he felt safe and hidden, despite being right there in the open. It wasn't until her burning gaze shifted over his figure, that the boy began to grow defensive. Pale fur spiked along his spine, gradually. He instinctively wanted to keep his head level with her own, but as she raised her posture, he lowered his - not a threat he tried to say, in the wordless dancing of the wolf. His own tail brushed meekly against his hocks,with the tip tracing a soft line in the fresh snow. Neither wolf spoke, and they were locked in to a momentarily silent struggle. With a small chuff of greeting, Gale advanced upon her.

His own movements were slow and precise, just as they had been on the mountain. The she-wolf before him did not seem too pleased to have company, and Gale was not about to irritate her; yet the silence remained, and it made him nervous. <b style=color:"#777;">"I did not mean to intrude," the boy called out, with the dull hope that she would simply let him pass. An apologetic glance shifted over the woman's jawline; for he knew the rules of their kind. He would not look her in the eye for threat of challenge. Not knowing what to say next, the pale wolf simply stood there and watched her. Would she back down? He did not think that to be a likely outcome, what with her obvious dominance; would she let him pass? Maybe. He hoped, with an expectant glance towards the trees - but it was a quick shift, and he was back to observing her ruddy shape.

There was a strong sense of doubt within Gale as the moments passed. He was unsure of this woman - curious, of course, and filled with the desire to study her as he studied all things, but nervous also. She did not have the amiable nature that he was accustomed to, and took a tad longer than he anticipated to form words. When she did speak, she did not have the lilting voice of a comforting female, but the rasping call of the lost. Upon hearing that the land itself was empty, Gale relaxed considerably. His rigid posturing fell away, although the urge to keep his defences up persisted. She was larger, and she was more dominant - which made her a threat, should the woman choose to act. They both seemed to ease up on the posturing though, and that was good. What caught his attention the most, was the last thing she said. Not yet. Although her words had faded in the air, Gale held these within his mind and began to ponder.

He had, after all, come here in search of adventure.

<b style="color:#777;">"There is a pack gathering, then?" he questioned swiftly, letting a only a heartbeat pass between his thoughts and his words. The rolling bass of his voice seemed so out of place here. It rolled across the snow towards the stranger, fading little between breaths. <b style="color:#999;">"The winter is hard for wanderers," he stated next, as he adjusted himself in to a seated position. Rump connected with the chilled snow, crunching softly. They both knew of the hardships of winter - the woman was experienced, judging by her age, and he had spent many days within the harsh north. Winter was the time of year in which Gale excelled, although it was harder now. He was alone, in a strange new land without allies. He let a silence linger between them for a moment - wondering if she caught upon his idea. They could band together, if it so suited her.

"Perhaps," the woman replied, as her body buckled in to a similar position as his own. She seemed to consider his implications, and this was good. Gale was not sure if he could trust her really, but if she needed help - well, that was what he was offering. That, and he needed a place to stay. It was too strange to be without a single connection in this place. At the mention of injustice the boy felt his fur give a slight prickle; he watched the fog as it billowed from her painted muzzle, all attention upon her, while his mind wandered. If something had been done to harm this woman, was it not his duty to aid her? She was a stranger, but she was a living and breathing beast - someone that was just as alone as himself, if he was not mistaken. The boy was jumping to a few vague conclusions, which may come back to bite him later; however, he knew as those words fell from her lips that he would indeed join her. It was only a matter of understanding her plight. "I am Naira, I hail from the Yukon," she mentioned next, with a flick of her nose towards the mountain he had previously been climbing; absently, Gale's nose followed her example and pointed high - looking in to the mists above.

He looked up for some time. Even as she asked her question, Gale did not seem inclined to turn away from the great mountain. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the mentioned pack - Poison Path, how strange a name. If she did not rule there, then had she stepped down? Been evicted? Perhaps the pack itself had disbanded, and that was why she sought a new home. Rounded ears flicked thoughtfully for a moment or two as he gathered an answer, his head drifting back to a resting position where he could observe her, in quiet speculation. "I am from Alaska, the far north. I have heard tales of the Yukon though. It is similar." Pink tongue slipped between his lips as he thought of his home, and as the warmth of his saliva penetrated the chill of the day, the muscle slid across his nose and then retreated in to his muzzle. The look was a hungry one, an eager one. For Gale desired many things at this point. "If I may be bold," he started, as he rose from his position hip-deep in snow, the boy looked quite regal - foolish, but regal - as he took a step towards her. "I would like to help you. If you will have me - I can fish, hunt, patrol, anything that you ask. All I require is a place to call home, and you shall have my loyalty." And it was true; the boy was as brutally honest as he was terribly, painfully ignorant of the world.

To say that he was valiant was pushing it, maybe. Had it been one of his brothers that found her here, they probably wouldn't have been so kind; he thought of this as a small smile crept across his face, shy and speculative. He had faith in his brothers though, and knew that they often did what was right - although none of them would have likened themselves to shining knights, as Naira did for him now. A pleased stroke of his tail accompanied the smile, and Gale gave a small bow to the woman; eager to be of service to someone, and happy that they had come to an agreement. She asked for his name then, swiftly, and her voice finally gained a semblance of cheer. "I am Gale, son of Jet, of the high north pack of Pinereach Forest." It felt good to be getting his name out, for that was the way to spread his influence. For now Gale was but a minnow swimming in a shark-infested ocean, but one day he would be great. He would be strong. The pale wolf felt his spirits rise for the first time in days, knowing deep in his heart that this was where he belonged. Alongside this desperate woman, who he could easily assist.

It was like a fairytale; something told in the midnight hours to children that could not sleep. A fair knight and his charge, ready to set out at the turn of the day. Gale was pleased with this idea as well. One day there would be tales told of his exploits, he knew it; it was a pipe dream for now, but soon would be made reality. With a second bow of his head - this time with more of a flourish, as he sank down within the snow and pushed it aside with stout legs - his deep voice rumbled; "I swear an oath of fealty to you, m'lady. I will protect and serve you and your kin until my debt has been paid." He had no idea just how strange he sounded, but this was the way his family had operated. Were the wolves down south really so different? As the boy slid back up to his full height, he barely gave this thought any consideration. His body turned and he awaited the movement of his Queen, who would no doubt need to be escorted somewhere - and he would follow readily.