And So It Goes

His ears perked and one swiveled in the direction of the spotted female. “I am.” He said, his voice a deep and imposing baritone. “Or I should hope I am.” He muttered to himself.  Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression calm despite the deep boom of his voice. He recognized her scent; it had been just as prevalent on Dragoste’s borders as Ganta’s and amid the smell of pup milk he could smell the alpha’s scent heavily on her. He bowed his head in a formal greeting. “Pleasure to meet you my lady. I am Yale Beaufort. ” He rumbled, issuing the same reverence a wolf of nobility was to give another wolf of authority in his home land. She was the first wolf he had met aside from Ganta although that was, to an extent, a fault of his own design.  He wondered if she had heard him recite the poem his Nann had told him when he was just a pup, one of many poems and tales that ultimately caused her to be maimed for corrupting a lord’s progeny with blasphemy. He pushed the memory aside and waited for the woman to return a greeting of her own.  

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