After traveling for what felt to be far too long with a sober brain, the light russet beast dropped the bundle he held in his ebony jaws. His treasure - a rather sizable bundle of cannabis buds - was wrapped inside two large leaves that formed an 'x' around his treasured plant. Sniffing at the sweet, skunky, earthy aroma, his russet-and-black tail waved back and forth slowly, a grin upon his nearly-black muzzle. Savoring every taste, Drago carefully removed a small bite, chewing and swallowing. It didn't take long for his bite to take effect, but the large brute took another small bite just to ensure he gave himself a proper high. Wrapping up his bundle again before he became too inebriated to do it himself, Drago lifted up his prize again and trotted onward. As he traveled, his brain was taken over by the herb, putting him in a joyful daze. So out of it the male was, he didn't even notice when he strode passed borders he was normally aware of, even with the intoxicating aroma floating from his leafy bundle to his nose. Act. "Speak." Think.

The golden male stretched languidly atop a hillside, hips flipped over and dropped to the side as massive forepaws lay draped overtop each other. He loved the sunshine, especially while high. He was still coming down from is mushroom trip with Sibelle, light pockets blossoming at the backs of his eyes but instead of shying away from it he would simply smile, swaying slightly to the rhythm of the song playing in his own mind. He would remain that way for quite some time until the sound of paw falls reached him and finally he would snap to attention. Liquid gold gaze drifting lazily towards the sound. What was this? The males scent was distinctly rouge, was he a new member perhaps or just a lowly trespasser? Would he had to throw down to prove his worth to his queen? He almost giggled at that thought. "Why hello there handsome. New to town or just spitting on pack lands?" Voice was a low rumble, a smirk slipping across inky lips easily. He would not lift himself, no. Not yet.

Speech!

It was a shock to the large russet male when suddenly his daze was interrupted. He came to a sharp stop, gold-hazel eyes looking up at the source of the voice. A golden hued male sat atop the hill. Blinking, Drago gazed around his surroundings, his nose twitching to take in the scents beyond that of his prize. Sure enough, he found the strong scent of a group of wolves, the strong scent of the pack's marked border. Oops. Drago chuckled around his mouthful before setting it gently down. He took the moment to offer a polite bow to this obvious pack member. "I'm really sorry. I meant no intrusion." He grinned at the light male. "But since I'm already here, would it be too much to ask if I stayed for only a few moments? I'm Ignazio Jeovanni, but you can call me Drago." Abandoning his bundle - for only the while he was allowed to remain, he strode forward, closer to the other male. "And you are?" His tone was curious, but friendly, eyes still dazed and a silly grin planted on his face. Act. "Speak." Think.

He seemed a bit groggy, sluggish and uncertain about where he was and what he was doing. What was that scent? Was that weed? Nostrils flared as they drank in the delicious scent, languid smile curling across his lips. The male would drop the package of drugs on the ground before bowing politely and speaking. Cynrik would offer a polite nod in return but he would not lift himself, still not quite trusting his legs to support him. An easy shrug would lift his shoulders in response to the intrusion. He was to high to care, didn't especially have any care or attachment to this pack enough to be offended. It was just another temporary home probably. Drago hey? Cyn's head tipped as the male asked his own name and slowly he would clear his throat. God maybe he was more high then he thought? "Cynrik? Cynrik Sovari though most just call me Cyn?" That lopsided, boyish smile would slip onto inky lips as he motioned for the male to join him on his little hilltop, hoping he would bring the weed. "What brings you here Drago?" He would ask conversationally.

Speech!

Cynrik Sovari. Cynrik. Cyn. The name rolled easily around inside his pale orange skull. The lightly colored male made a gesture for Drago to join him on his perch. How curious. Was it normal for pack wolves to be so courteous to outsiders? As golden hued orbs drank in the sight of the lopsided grin, the fact that Cyn appeared so lazy at the moment, and the relaxed muscles in the male before him, Drago soon realized that he was not the only one here who was far from sober. With a light laugh, he turned away, just enough to pick up his package, before delightfully, though slowly, bouncing up to the hilltop beside Cynrik. Here, he dropped his bundle carefully, nosing the leaves to unwrap the buds. "Boredom, I suppose. Or maybe the Divines brought me for the sole purpose of having somebody to share with." Drago's tone held a very distinct Italian accent. He let out another light laugh, dark grey jaws parting in a grin as he watched Cynrik, eager to share his prize. After all, it was never any fun getting high alone. Act. "Speak." Think.