only know you love her when you let her go

Border patrols were getting so much more interesting these days; it seemed that word of Tortuga was finally beginning to spread, and with it came loners seeking to join, or seeking trouble. In the past few days she'd chased off a couple trespassers who thought a smaller pack would be easy to steal from. And now? A cracked howl drew her to the border. She was on her guard, as she always was when on patrol, but even more than that, she was curious and concerned. That voice sounded broken, distressed. A loner in trouble? Her legs flashed as she bounded toward the sound. Bursting through the trees to come upon the spot, she slowed to a halt. Her gaze quickly took in the situation - a young male, no pack scent, no obvious injuries, but incredibly scruffy-looking and... though she was loath to be so rude as to say it... a bit smelly. He looked like he'd not bothered to groom himself for a month.

Qanik was a little taken aback, and though her posture didn't show aggression, neither did she have any intention of relaxing. The wolf was outside of the packlands, so there was no reason to chase him off, and he looked distraught and distracted and more than a little pitiful rather than aggressive, but still she remained in a slightly defensive posture. Better to be safe than sorry. "You call for Tortuga, rogue?" she asked, her tone civil though guarded. "I am Qanik, legionary of the pack. Are you in need of assistance?"



speech.