There was much to do in his quest for sustainability. If he was going to be able to keep wolves fed he needed more livestock. Not only that he needed to have a better handle on animal husbandry. While Tashi was a valuable source, the monkey didn't know everything and honestly, Tyrian was leery of his advice after that fiasco with the lamb. It was a shame that rogue herdsman guy was no longer in Legion. Perhaps he could have been pumped for information.

Tyrian was on the lookout for goats, sheep and the like. He would take any of the above if he could find them in numbers plentiful enough for repeated raiding. Someday he would have a sustainable herd but until then he would need to add individuals to his lot slowly. Right now he thought he could contain and manage no more than ten animals. As his confidence grew so too would his herds.

Today was a simple scouting mission. Without help or some kind of plan in place he couldn't catch a sheep or a goat on his own. For now he was content to roam the Gulley in search of hoof prints.

The trek back towards the Oasis was a long one, but he was well familiar with the path. Taking him past the swamplands, and dipping towards the Gulley. Occasionally he passed the scent of rogues, and sometimes he ignored them, other times he sought them out. His numbers grew with every wolf he ‘welcomed’ into the fold. It was uncommon for him to catch the scent of pack-wolf, so it was with some surprise that he found it today. The wolf had passed this way just moments before, judging by the fresh layer of their scent. Heading further into the Gulley that he had intended only to pass. Curiosity, something that had gotten him into trouble multiple times before, would lead him to change direction. The Titan Warlord followed the track until he found the blue-toned wolf. The light grey-blue of his coat was far more powerful than the very subtle blues in Sirius’s own, but the fangs… the fangs were very similar to his own. A fact noted as the young wolf turned towards him. He could almost be a bastard of the Warlord, if the man had been the type to toss his seed about. “Nice fangs” he drawled in soft amusement. "Speech"

Tyrian eyed the approaching male speculatively. He was about the same size as Angelus, Tyrian's older brother, which made him only a tic taller than Tyrian himself. It struck Tyrian as odd that the stranger shared so many similarities to the Imperialis/Saxe family. He was a tall, dark mutant. With a couple dots under his eyes they could have been family which was a rare thing around these parts.

The older male commented on Tyrian's fangs to which Tyrian immediately cocked his head and gazed casually down at Sirius' paws. After a beat he looked back up at Sirius. "Nice claws." It seemed they were matched in the mutation department. Both with their fangs and their claws. All the older man needed was a purple tinge to his coat and Tyrian may very well have inducted him into the family.

“Indeed.” Sirius agreed, eyes gliding down the legs of the marginally smaller beast, to find the feline-like claws in replacement of wolf ones. A matching set to Sirius’s own. Huh. the Warlord thought in surprise. If they hadn’t been an enchantment won on the strange night of the Firefly festival, he would have really started to question if he had had any drunken and forgotten encounters. An event that could have lead to a child, this child. Admittedly, the desire to claim the boy then and there, and train him under the Armada regiment was powerful, but he remembered the scent of pack. If he took this boy, others would come looking for him. As much as he smiled at the thought of that mess, he knew Zee and Io would not forgive him. They were the voice of reason in his thick skull. “What brings you to the Gulley?” he asked, voice casual, as he continued to squash the desire to claim the boy. He looked like a fighter, like a wolf he could shape into a fearsome creature. But alas, the budding beginning of the Armada was not the time to start a war. "Speech"

Standing in the presence of an equally gifted wolf made Tyrian feel a whole lot less special - and he hated it. Hopefully Sparrow never met this man or she'd never let Tyrian live down his lack of uniqueness. If he could do so he'd sprout horns or thumbs out of spite. But alas, he had no such talent. He was going to have to settle for being a less-than-special snowflake...at least until he could get his paws on a witch doctor like the one Sparrow had supposedly paid.

In response to Sirius' question Tyrian shrugged insolently and said, "Got nothing better to do at the moment, honestly." He was lying, obviously, since he was here for livestock, but he thought his idea was a great one and he was far too selfish to share. Livestock and thievery would be his leg up in the world. Everyone else had to get their own shtick. "How about you? More interesting things, I hope?"

The young, strangely familiar man only shrugged at him, nonchalant and unfussed. The Tyrant bit back a smile, thinking how easy it would be to claim the man. He was out here, alone, no back up, no one to know what happened to him. It would be so easy, would it not? And he looked like a fighter, exactly what the pack needed.

He kept the boy talking as he considered his thoughts, wondering if he could recruit the man without the need for violence - start them off on good footing, and have him open to the idea of training under Sirius.

“I’m travelling between the Oasis and the Tall Grass Plains. My pack is currently in the Oasis, but will be moving to the Plains soon” he explained, introducing the idea of the pack to the young man.

Ah, so the man and his pack were likely refugees who had fled the volcano. It seemed a fair assumption to make considering he was in the West and moving to the South, which would be the same path Legion would make sometime in the near future. Following that line of reasoning it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that this man's pack had run West same as Legion had when the volcano blew. Who wasn't moving these days? "Ahh, I see," he commented before offering, "I suspect my pack will be moving back South soon too."

"It's going to suck," he said with a shrug, "But it's a necessary evil. Can't wait to be home." An idea came to him then. The journey to the West had been made a helluva lot easier with a series of contraptions to carry their things. "Say, you know what a travois is? It'll make your travels a lot easier." It would amuse him to be able to teach the older man a thing or two about traveling well.