The clock is ticking faster, as we live

Beauregard came from the desert, paws thankful to touch the grasses of the plains. A pack had once lived here, perhaps still did, even if they were fewer in number, and as he crossed the wall they had built the man made a promise to leave them once the deed was done. He had no idea if another might contest his claim, but no matter what fate had in store for him, he would stand strong. Some time ago, when he had left his birth pack on his pilgrimage, Beau had no idea what to expect. He had come to Boreas seeking his place, initially hoping it might be with Menagerie. When that fell through he had gone with his partners to Ethne, a pack that had cared for them as their own… and without questioning or judgment. But as he found an area where the grasses had been trimmed down by grazing animals, the ashen cream male reminded himself that he was here of his own accord.

Beauregard had no problem following others, but he no longer lacked the courage to stand up and be a leader if the opportunity for it arose as well. Perhaps fortune would favor him. His blue gaze swept the plains, ears perked as he sought the sounds of other predators in the area. Thus far nothing… but it would be foolish to assume that this would be a cakewalk. His gaze would slide to the knife attached to the leather leg wraps. Would he use it today to draw the blood of a stranger? He heard shifting at his side, his companion Blind testing the earth and grass beneath her paws. Their gazes met and the wolf knew it was time. His head would tilt back, and his song would fill the air.

He wanted to make a pack. And unless someone dared contested his claim, he would make it before he left these plains.

"Speech" 'Thought.'