Anyone welcome!
Yarrow had the feeling he had come upon it, finally.
Dark nose twitched as he loped through the increasingly verdant grasses, intaking a library's worth of information with each breath. An abundance of smells left trails all over this land, fertile with flora and fauna alike - and most importantly, wolves. There seemed to be plenty passing through and plenty settled down. Whatever winter he had suffered through to get here did not seem to have affected the numbers of this land - and if it had, then he could hardly comprehend the number of wolves that might've been. If there was anywhere else in the world with prospects as promising as the Ridge throne, it would be here. And this time there was no one above him to deny Yarrow the crown he was promised. Especially after all he went through to unseat that pale-faced bastard-
Mahongany-tipped hackles rose and then fell, unwilling to get caught up in anger over the past. No, those days were long gone, and so was everyone he knew. This world was a blank canvas and Yarrow would paint it with blood and sweat - but he couldn't do it alone.
As he slowed to the water's edge Yarrow was irritatingly aware of the exhaustion of his limbs. The journey to this land had been long. The Ritter heir had been hoping to come across viable territory long before now but it seemed he had been lost in a snowstorm one too many times. The wear of the road was noticeable on his frame, the hollows between his ribs sticking out from his pale sides when he moved. To start an empire here, he would need good wolves - but more importantly, a good meal. Perhaps he'd find the right stone for those birds, he thought as he knelt at the edge of the pool for a drink.