The morning was partially cloudy, even as the sun began it's ascension into the sky, breaking out of it's prison upon the horizon, Nagga could see the wispy clouds that drifted lazily across the sky line. Among that, he found himself adjusting to the harsh chill that seeped through the silken tendrils of pale fur, thickened for the winter season and in his heirtage as partially Arctic, rather well given that he had come from a place where winter did not know this cold. Not tropical, by far, but warmer climates than what Nagga knew thus far of Relic Lore's current winter. The name for these lands sounded strange, even in the tenor of the ghosts' thoughts but an old warrior had used it to name these lands whilst they had hunted together, pulling their collective strength and tactics to take down a small, lost fawn just before Nagga had crossed the invisible threshold into Relic Lore. Deep inhale was taken, drawing in the raw cold as the air passed warm, leathery black nostrils. He was getting closer to pack territoy, having already passed a few on his way south. In truth, the ghost was not sure why he had not stopped to inquire about them, aside from the simple consideration that he did not want to trouble them if he decided not to join their ranks. The flaw of that logic was exposed like a live wire when he contemplated it as a palpable option. He would never find a pack if he kept following that obscure line of thought. He was a stranger to these lands, and knew nothing of the packs or the wolves that inhabited them. How was he to learn if he did not inquire?Nagga lowered his head to the frost covered grasses beneath his paws, nostrils flaring as he drank on the scents, attempting to guage how far away he was from the pack's borders and deducing, silently, that this unknown pack was as good a pack as any to break the ice. Reddish orange eyes surveyed the territory around him for a few seconds, before he began padding in the direction of the borders. It was not a terribly long trek, and Nagga - who was thankfully familiar with loner/pack customs from watching Drogon attend to her duties as the muscle or Dragon's Keep's monarchy - made absolute sure there was more than an adequately respectful distance between his body and the borders. Lifting his head skyward, Nagga sent out a howl to announce his presence to the wolves that dwelled within, noting his interest as a potential joiner. That was only as good as if they had not met their maximum capacity and would take him, of course, but Nagga figured he would handle such things when they arose.
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