Keep in Touch [Theory/Abaven]

When a sonorous call sounded from the borders, summoning the Sequoia, the pale yearling lifted his head from where he'd been lounging beside the rapids after his patrol. Since he'd been given the rank of a diplomat in training, he'd been waiting for a chance for some real-world experience. This might be what he was needing! Rolling to his paws, the burly Destruction headed towards the source of the call at a steady lope. Dark masked features settled into an expression that he hoped read as stoic, pale eyes flitting over the figures that had already gathered around the borders of the thicket. The scents wafted towards him, and he immediately knew Theory was one of the wolves present. However, the closer he drew, he found himself drawn to the softly glowing wolves that faced her. Polar opposites, a titanic ebony man with a fiery glow sitting to the side and just behind a female who was pale as the driven snow with an ethereal blue luminescence. What the hell?

Drawing up alongside Theory, he offered her a soft half-smile and a polite dip of his head. She seemed familiar with the strangers, her expression warm and friendly. Keen eyes tracked over the female first, about the same age as his parents had been before.. he cast that train of thought aside immediately. Her fangs were long, and her fur plush. She bore a mane and tail more akin to a horse than a wolf, long tresses that seemed to drape over the sides of her neck from her topline. He'd never seen anything like it, truly. When his attention turned to the male, well.. he was young, probably about the same age as himself. He bore the same unique mane, and mismatched eyes that he immediately found himself meeting unconsciously. Well. He was definitely handsome. Perhaps... too handsome? Those cheekbones ought to have been illegal, and when his muzzle was framed by those long fangs, well. What a looker. Tearing his gaze away from the young man, he was grateful for the dark mask upon his features that hid a blush that might have peeked through the pale hues of the rest of his coat.

Looking to the Sequoia, he smiled lightly. "I hope I'm not intruding, I heard the call and thought I might observe?" he said, leaving the proposition open ended and ready to be declined. He could just as easily melt into the thicket and continue about his day, waiting for a better opportunity. Letting his gaze drift back to the visitors, he bowed his thick skull politely in greeting. "Solo Destruction, at your service." he added, his mother's British accent hanging heavy upon his impossibly deep vocals.