Sorenn did best in company. Life since escaping his previous engagement had displayed for him time and again, often in vibrant color, the struggles a lone wolf faces. What with scrabbling and clawing just to feed himself, he never had any time at all to stir up any fun. So, having been traveling the north for several days through the marble wash, he was delighted to find a pack nearby. He had been raised in a cold, boreal place, and knew that somewhere hot or lush would never really feel like home for him anyways. With only slightly more thought put into it than acting on a whim, Sorenn went to seek them out.

No pressure or anything, he thought to himself. Somehow the voice in his head always seemed so unamused by the world around him, nevermind that Sorenn himself found great humor in almost everything he did. The two sides warred together, and the end result was usually something sarcastic. Here's to hoping these wolves are a fan of sarcasm, I suppose? A great wrought-metal monster loomed up ahead, frozen into the solid earth and ice below. He looked on in keen interest, squinting through the distance.

Coming upon the border at last, Sorenn was careful to keep himself several paces behind the markers. First impressions, and all that. He would need to suss out the alpha quickly to figure out what behavior would get him through the door. As long as this wasn't some sort of pansy, goodie-goodie lot Sorenn figured he could get on with them well enough. Then again, he doubted soft sorts would choose to live on a frozen metal death trap at the edge of the world anyways. The odds seemed in his favor. All that as left was to tip his head back and wait.

The call came at a rather inopportune moment, as Enrico had been outside of pack lands a mile or two when a stranger's howl summoned him to the border. A swift lope brought him there only a smidge later than he'd have preferred, but he did so hate making a late entrance. He prided himself on his gentlemanly demeanor, and a gentleman is among other things punctual. There was nothing to be done but compose his features into serenity. Enrico cleared his throat as he approached the stranger from behind, alerting the other male to his presence so he would not rudely take him by surprise. "Good day," he greeted politely. "I am Niente's alpha - you called for me?" Even with Basileus safely locked up in the Antiox's hold, Enrico was wary of giving his name at the first exchange with someone, though he kept that wariness buried beneath the veneer of many layers of genteel calm.

A clearing throat cause Sorenn to whirl about. The man who had come to greet him was not at all what he had been expecting, even down to the direction he'd approached from. Well, if that's not enough to make you nervous... Still. The ash-and-russet man had been born into a pack of hard wolves from an even harder land, and none of them had been terribly keen on 'manners.' So despite the fact that he was fairly certain he had walked into an ambush of some sort, he forced himself to reply in kind. "Well, I'd actually come to inquire about your pack." Sorenn cast a quick backwards glance towards the packlands, half-expecting to see warriors slinking out of the brush now that their alpha had cut off his escape.

"My name is Sorenn. I've travelled a long way to find a place that suited me better than where I come from. To be perfectly honest I cannot stand the heat of the lowlands, so I came north and found your border. Would you mind terribly if I asked you a question or two about your pack? Unless, of course, you're not looking for new additions. If that is the case I'll be on my way." He smiled, hoping the gesture came across as genuine. It was true enough that he had absolutely zero interest in pissing off an entire pack. That was suicidal, and Sorenn rather liked living. But then again, he also knew that packs sometimes left scraps behind for the less fortunate to pick at. Being 'on his way' didn't necessarily mean leaving, but this dark-coated male didn't really need to know that.

As long as he wasn't jumped, Sorenn decided he liked how this was going. Despite his misgivings, which he wasn't entirely ready to set aside, their leader seemed collected. They were of a similar size, close enough that he wouldn't go squinting at their differences. Sorenn wondered absently what he was really like, underneath those manners and decorum. Perhaps if he was lucky he would get to find out.

The male seemed a bit wary, glancing about as though waiting to get jumped. Enrico stood quietly and calmly as he did so, making it clear that he had no interest in threatening the other male. His expression remained genial, his pale eyes tracking the other male's movements without judgment. It was, he reflected, a very good thing that Asriel was not with him. He didn't imagine that being approached from behind by two dangerous predators would have made the stranger feel any better. After the male had spoken, Enrico finally stirred, his head tilting in a graceful welcoming gesture. "Of course," he murmured. "I do not mind at all. Niente always has room for capable individuals."

Sorenn relaxed a hair as time stretched on and he found himself still in possession of his pelt. He wouldn't apologize for it; flighty inclinations had kept him alive so far. Approaching a pack border without backup and being approached from behind by pack members? Very low on his to-do list, usually. But the charcoal coated man who'd greeted him seemed kind enough. Knew his manners, at least. Sorenn could work with this.

"I'll leave my capability up to you to decide, of course. My old band specialized in carrying goods from place to place, but we got in more scuffles than I'd prefer. Not a terribly capable lot. I'm handy enough in a fight but I prefer to keep my pelt in one piece for as long as I can." No need to detail the original ownership of those items, or what might have stirred up such conflict in the first place. This alpha had an air of calm calculation about him, and Sorenn could respect that. But he was not at all sure how he would feel about the entire truth Sorenn might have offered up. All things in good time.

"If your wolves would prefer a trial before entry I'd gladly oblige. I'm not sure how packs operate in these parts, but I'm at your mercy." He smiled then, crooked and somehow deprecating. It was a joke to him at least, knowing that if the male wanted to do him any harm he'd had ample opportunity so far. It wasn't quite trust exactly, but as far as the russet-and-ash male was concerned, it was a step in the right direction.

Enrico listened with his head tilted slightly, gaze polite as he tracked Sorenn's movements. The other male's words wound down, and Enrico stirred again and spoke somewhat absently as he mulled Sorenn's words over. "If there's a particular rank you want then we'd do a trial best suited for it to see if you have that particular level of skill. But no, we require no trial to allow you in, at the moment. Your abilities when you enter the pack matter far less than the effort you are willing to put forth once you are in it. The best fighters in the world would do me no good if they do not put that skill towards helping their packmates." And then he studied the male curiously. "Traders? Or smugglers?" Both had their merits as far as skills that would be of use to Niente, but he admitted to himself that he was far more used to dealing with the second than the first. Years in the cosca made him less than comfortable with the role of the legitimate businessman, though it was a mask he had hidden behind all along. It felt strange and... empty... for that mask to be hiding nothing. He kept his expression carefully neutral other than polite curiosity, making it clear he wasn't terribly concerned with the idea that the man might have been moving about less than honest goods, and curious what he would say in response.

The older male explained that trails were indeed a facet of life in this pack, but only for higher ranks. Sorenn nodded, considering the words as keen blue eyes traced him over. He got the sense that this old coot wasn't a wolf to mess with. Sorenn was still young, but he had seen his share of wolves. Some were loud and boastful, but the oldest wolves he'd known were those wise enough to stay alive. A big mouth wasn't conducive to long life. So yeah, he figured this male had been around. Still, he was a bit surprised to be so efficiently called out. "Traders? Or smugglers?" His expression remained unchanged, lacking judgement. Unfortunately that told Sorenn nothing of his true feelings on the matter, because he trusted the other male to school himself into neutrality regardless.

Sorenn let a crooked grin overtake his lips. "Well," he hedged, laughing briefly and quietly under his breath. "Depended on the day, really." They were mercenaries and raiders as much as they were traders. If a job presented itself, their leaders weren't known for turning work away. Morality was subjective, anyways. "As for ranking, if you have a place for traders of various persuasion, I'd be more than happy to prove my worth to whatever rank in the hierarchy you'd prefer." He shrugged. He really wasn't built to roam alone, so he hoped that was enough to satisfy the man for now. He would have to do his own sussing out before committing to anything grandiose, besides.