One Lonely Beastie I Be

Ruthgar was finally beginning to feel like he belonged somewhere; The Crew was nothing but a band of trouble-makers and drunkards, which was perfect for the scarred man who, in truth, had no real talents to speak of other than getting outrageously drunk and shit-stirring. The fact that shit stirring was part of the Crew’s very culture had taken him to the top of a great waterfall, deep into the territory of another pack. So far no one seemed to have noticed him and while just being in another pack’s land was an achievement in itself Ruthgar felt it was his duty to take it a step further. He stood over the falls taking in the view as the sun began to sink behind him and took a deep, breath, feeling the wind whip through his silky fur as he closed his eyes. This place was beautiful really. It was just too bad the wolves that lived there were, in Chaos's words: "Boring" and, in his own words; “Mighty shites.” Satisfied, he turned, lifted his leg, and took a piss, the yellow stream falling directly into the river as it flowed over the mountain side.

This is him talking