Will you stand with us?

Wrecker drifted. At first, their drifting had been rather aimless; they had traveled down from Boreas to Auster, wondering what the newer continent had to offer them. They were new to the land in general, of course, and they sought to ...

Ah!

Wait.

The call that Beauregard sent up caught their attention, and Wrecker's spattered head raised up sharply. Their ears swivelled forward, and the sleek creature began to trot slowly towards the source of the sound, gaze sharp. They were not the most... trusting of beings, of course, but this seemed promising. If a wolf was offering a home freely, Wrecker supposed, that meant they were desperate for company.

Not that Wrecker begrudged them that, of course. The odd-toned wolf understood enough the desperation of loneliness.

They advanced towards Beauregard with keen ears, with a sharp gaze, with a curious tilt of the head. Their lip twitched into a smile, the sort that flashed just a hint of canine, a roguish greeting. They knew that it was a roguish greeting, at least. Wrecker wasted no time: "So-" And they scuffed the ground with a paw, curious, if not hesitant. "... what's your pitch?"

It wasn't as if Wrecker couldn't survive on their own.