Naia’s honey eyes were open at the first sign of dawn peeking through the Cedar branches. The daylight hours were growing shorter, and she wanted to utilize as many of them as possible for her mission today. She squirmed her petite body through the opening of the shallow den she had carved into a snowdrift, the entryway collapsing on top of her as she emerged from the burrow like a pup from the womb. After a slight struggle she was free of the snowy cell, and she shook the remaining flakes from her smooth pelt of mottled browns. In the last day or so the weather had taken a turn for the worse; Naia already felt chilled to her very core after being exposed for just a few breaths. Eager to start moving and generating some heat energy, she sniffed around the collapsed den for a moment before unearthing the frozen pronghorn flank—the only remains from the carcass she found on the Rise above the meadow. Her belly gave a rumble as her teeth closed around the haunch, but instead of consuming the meal the delicate female carried it with her as she traveled deeper into the forest. She had no right to this meat; it was to be a gift for whichever River Wolf leader greeted her at the border.

Naia felt a shiver of anticipation roll down her spine. Never before had she approached the border of a pack she knew so little about; never before had she implored a pack membership from a strange alpha. The nearer she drew toward the border, the more her stomach clamped up with nerves—perhaps it was a good thing she had no meal this morning. She stopped in her tracks as she came within scenting distance of the River Wolves’ border. The scent marker was unmistakable; it was the delightful smell of the fresh moist earth found near a water source mixed with a slight hint of the tangy marsh nearby. With a scent like that, no doubt the River Wolves had a den carved into the soil by a riverbank (hence her naming them ‘River Wolves’). Naia dared herself to hope that tonight she would be sleeping there, as opposed to her usual snowy burrow where she could feel her body heat seeping away from her and into the frozen floor below. She dropped the pronghorn limb between her front paws and gave a howl; a polite request for a leader’s audience. Once she was finished, she straightened her back and legs so as to not look quite so small on first impression. She also tucked her tail and flattened her ears deferentially in anticipation for reception by a pack wolf. Even if she was not greeted by a leader, any pack wolf was superior to a diminutive lone wolf like herself.

Naia did not have to wait long. It seemed like she had to wait only a few breaths before she heard something very large charging through the cedars. The petite female instinctively stiffened as a broad, powerfully built wolf came into view. He carried himself in the unmistakable pose of a leader, tail held high like a banner to signal his dominance. As the alpha squared himself before her, she lowered her shoulders in a submissive stance, her honey eyes holding his gaze of bright green for a moment before respectfully shifting away. His controlled expression gave away very little, though Naia detected no hostility from the Mackenzie giant. Not yet, at least.

The male needed no introduction—the moment he appeared it was clear by sight and smell that he was indeed the Baranski leader of Cut Rock River. Naia had done her research before even setting foot in the River Wolves’ cedar forest. An aspiring scout, the young lady’s mind stored bits of information like a card catalogue in a library, and the name of the River Wolf leader and his pack were easily recalled. Naia remembered fondly the energetic Cut Rock River yearling she had met in the marsh on her way here. He was so proud of his familyand his leader, eager to promote his pack to a curious loner.

Maksim’s request was straight to the point, as was Naia’s answer. ”Naia Aegina,” she said simply, ”formerly of Pitch Pine Trail.” If what she heard from Aeolus was true, then she was not the first Pitch Pine Trail refugee to seek acceptance here. The leader would have heard their story, and he would know that she was no deserter. Several of Pitch Pine Trail’s wolves had held on to the bitter end—Naia included—and had only departed from their beloved homeland when it was truly evident that no leader was going to step up, and thus there was no pack left to serve. ”I am seeking a pack to serve and a leader to whom I may pledge my loyalty. ” They were certainly big words coming from a small wolf, and Naia waited for the alpha’s reply with a determined expression. If Maksim chose to take her in as a member of his family, she would follow him with fierce devotion for as long as either of them lived, just as she had followed the deceased Shade Slayer.

”Is that so?” the massive leader questioned, and Naia gave a resolute nod. The question was rhetorical, so Naia remained silent to allow him to study her without interruption. He was making his first judgment, and the Timber lady knew that the next time the Baranski leader spoke it could be to send her away without another word. It would take an exceptional wolf to even consider placing such a diminutive female among his ranks, but an alpha that could recognize value that others had overlooked was exactly the sort of leader Naia sought. All she needed was a chance to prove her worth, and anyone who was shallow enough to dismiss her simply due to her size was not worth her loyalty to begin with. He spoke again, and Naia’s ears flicked as he repeated her full name. Again he cut right to the point, requesting to know just how exactly she planned on serving him and his pack. It was another question she had expected (provided she passed the initial inspection) and she nodded once more before she answered.

”I’ll start by offering this meat, with the promise to continue to place the wellbeing of Cut Rock River before my personal needs.” She bowed her head, and in a small symbolic movement nudged the pronghorn flank toward the Baranski leader. Naia had carried and protected the limb for two nights despite the rumble of her own empty stomach, and she hoped he would understand the significance of a food offering from an indigent lone wolf. ”I can serve as your eyes and ears within the pack’s borders and beyond,” she began, raising her head once more from its prostrate position. As a guardian a wolf of her size would be near worthless, and her frame also severely limited the sort of game she could procure as a hunter. However, her build was perfect for a scout. ”Rarely will you find a subordinate who can patrol a boundary as swiftly as I, or carry a message with endurance that matches mine,” she stated, very matter-of-fact. There was not even a hint of amusement on the face that was normally so quick to smile. It was a serious assertion, and she wanted Maksim to understand that she was not joking or embellishing.

”The most I can offer is my life,” she finished softly. Scouting was a dangerous line of work—the wolf who travelled to the borders of a distant pack with an ill-received message would soon find herself in a precarious position. There was a deep bond of trust between a leader and his scout: he had to take on faith any intelligence she delivered and trust her to represent his pack with dignity. Likewise, she had to trust that any mission she received from Maksim was worth the danger, even when she risked her life for the service of his pack. It was this sacred allegiance that she offered him now. Though this sort of trust is certainly not earned in a single conversation, her words were a vow to work every day toward achieving the venerable Scout position.

After she had spoken her piece, Naia suppressed a shiver as the man’s cool gaze of judgment settled on her. She was reminded fleetingly of the last time she had discussed pack membership as a lone wolf with her former leader, Shade Slayer. This new leader was steely and rigid where Shade had been friendly and relaxed—but ultimately, Maksim’s pack had thrived while Shade’s had fallen apart. It was no secret that a strong pack was a result of strong leadership, and knowing this comforted Naia as she bore the full impact of his piercing stare. Finally, the male’s icy expression softened, and Naia knew that he had come to a decision. ”Your words are bold, Naia,” he told her, and she lowered her head demurely. It was an allegation she was familiar with-- though she was small, she was rarely accused of being timid.

Before he continued, she chanced another look at his features, though so far he had done an excellent job at concealing his emotions from her. This time however, she as rewarded with a small smile of approval. He had liked that she was bold, that was a relief! She was going to enjoy membership in a pack where she was encouraged to respectfully be herself and not a spineless sycophant. ”Only a fool would turn down an offer such as yours,” he continued, stepping forward purposefully, ”And I am no fool, I can assure you.” His deliberate step forward was a quiet challenge that was not lost on Naia—he might as well have said aloud,”Treachery will be unforgivable.”

His warning delivered, he relaxed once more, symbolically welcoming her into his pack by transferring his scent to her pelt. The scent of Cut Rock River—cedarwood sap and moist soil, with a hint of tang from the marsh—filled her senses, and for the first time she allowed herself to call the scent home. As he brushed against her, she licked beneath his chin in a show of gratitude and submission to her new leader. The gesture was her contract—she was now loyal to Maksim and the others he called family, for as long as either of them still breathed. Maksim then spoke aloud to formerly accept her into Cut Rock River’s ranks. ”I intend to start immediately,” she replied in response to his suggestion that she work hard to earn her keep. He turned to leave, nodding an invitation for her to follow.

As they walked, Naia spoke up again. When she said immediately, she meant it. ”I had the pleasure of meeting Mace on my journey here,” she imparted with a smile, ”he spoke quite fondly of you.” Though he was still a pup, the swarthy young male had impressed her with his maturity. However even the most mature pup needed a guardian, and it was Naia’s understanding that Mace did not yet have someone to fill the void left by his parents. Well, no one save Maksim, but alphas are busy individuals. ”Since he has yet to reach his first year of age, I would like to offer to look after the young man. If he agrees of course, and if no one else has stepped forward to act as his guardian. I would do the same for his sisters as well, though I have yet to meet them.” Taking on the guardianship of three quickly growing youngsters was no easy task, but then Naia was no stranger to pupsitting. They were the future of Cut Rock River, and Naia would always put them first-- even if it took time away from her personal goal of attaining the Scout title.