Spirit of the Miasma [Gero ]

Despite the night being rather dark, it was peaceful and tranquil to the alabaster brute. He had only recently come into these lands and was looking for a potential home, even if he were to call it home to many other wolves by joining their ranks. His lime green eyes shifted to see if he could spot trouble or anything out of the ordinary. These lands were certainly different than what he was used to, but, held somewhat of a similarity when it came to his old home.

However, his thoughts were soon broken from existence when his nose happened to catch the scent of other wolves nearby. He was more than sure that he stumbled upon a pack territory, but, due to the disability of his broken leg he wasn't sure if they would be so welcoming. But, upon further analysis he happened to see what he thought was someone off in the distance. "Hello? Is someone there?" He spoke, his voice questioning with a hint of an accent, a mixture of Scottish and Irish, escaped him. The alabaster male was not intending to be rude, just wasn't sure if he would have another fight on his hands or if the stranger he encountered would be welcoming to have a loner in their mists, assuming they were a pack wolf that is. But, he stayed where he was and waited for a response patiently.