Making first contact

As the time went by, Artorias began to grow more and more impatient. No one had responded to their call, not vocally nor physically. It was as if this pack also didn't exist, despite the scent markers that lingered on the edge of the territory, though even those were beginning to grow faint. Was there even a pack still up here? Time dragged on, and he could see the frustration mounting in Ulric's expression. After some time, his alpha gruffly declared that they were moving on, proclaiming his belief for better luck in Valhalla. Artorias frowned and shot a narrowed gaze back out across the lands of a pack that seemed like it had ceased to exist. What was up with all these packs?! Were they that closed off to diplomacy and outsiders, or was everyone dying off after the long ice age? Either way, Artorias would remember how this pack had scorned their attempts.

- exit Artorias -

"Artorias Carpathius"