Party in the Graveyard

Niente was small, and so far few potential members had come bearing a recommendation from one of their few members. He supposed that was to be expected. They were far from "civilization" and since the membership was inclined towards the misfits and cast-offs who didn't fit in anywhere else, they were unlikely to bring in many new wolves they trusted enough to vouch for. He'd brought a couple members south with him who needed testing, but left them camped out near the border before continuing on alone. They needed to be tested, their skills honed, but this part he needed to do alone. His dark muzzle rose, testing the air. There were wolves around, there almost always were, but as he took the time to wander to and fro, following the freshest scents, nearly all were there for a fight. For the thrill of the battle, for building skill, whatever their reasons, they were just looking for a spar. That's not what he was looking for.

His gaze fell on a dark-coated female with the same wandering gait he ambled along at. Someone looking for something, but not quite sure what exactly it was they sought. He tilted his head slightly as he came to a stop before her. "Good evening," he murmured courteously.