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Wandering down through the north after his herd, Mikkal was surprised to be stopped by a border marker. There hadn't been a pack up here in the north for quite some time. He had grown used to wandering without being fenced out. Borders had always been vaguely disturbing to him, the thought that anyone would want to stay in one spot and keep all others out, as though they could somehow own the very ground they tread upon. To never know if you could find a meal because you could not control whether the herds chose to happen to wander through those particular boundaries. Unfortunately some of his herd HAD chosen to wander through these particular boundaries, and Mikkal sniffed at the scent markers with resignation and worry. Assuming they hadn't been eaten, it would be difficult at best to know where the young bachelor group would come back out or when, and he would lose track of their path likely until the herd came back together later in the year.

Maybe this pack would be willing to allow him within their borders to check the herds?

Previous experience with packs had not given the impression that they were ever really inclined to be reasonable but Mikkal was nothing if not optimistic. As the thought occurred to him his crestfallen expression immediately brightened, and he did not stop to consider before he raised his muzzle and called out to the pack. Tail waving quite happily, he waited there on that border for an answer to his call.