With family members sure to be making their way to the new lands Balerion found it of the utmost importance to do some exploration. Much like their previous home this new continent seemed to be lacking mystical properties but very plentiful in resources, biomes, and natives. The scents of various packs were a constant as well as the smells of both large and small prey. So far two of the strongest scents have been that of the pack in the North and the pack in the East. Despite his thoughts of superiority the male knew in these lands he was nothing but a stray. Vaelnaris meant nothing to these Wolves and thus he was on the ground level. The bottom of the totem pole. But, the anticipation of being able to rise was something unmatched by any other goal. Without the aid of his parents or the masses of their former Empire the fate of their legacy fell upon his rigid shoulders. The moon was rising as the sun fled from its harsh throne. Balerion was impartial to day and night. He preferred to hunt and explore in the late afternoon when it was cooling but he also wasn't too much of a night owl. The dark male was but a shadow beneath the looming canopy of a thick forest. The scents of prey and fresh water filled his nose as well as the thick existence of the rather large pack near. Though, he knew from the lack of borders he was still in loner territory. Perhaps he was foolish to linger so close but the male wanted to know who these Wolves were. So perhaps his strange scent of woodland and the twinge of salt water would bring forth a curious Wolf daring enough to cross paths with the phantom. Round black eyes darted across the lake as he broke through the thicket. Little flickers of lightening bugs filled his vision but his lips remained in a fine line. Balerion stalked forward with a lowered head towards the brim of the lake to lower down and lap at the seemingly serene pool of water. Water flicked as his tongue worked and the sounds of mild splashing could be heard. ""

She still felt a little ashamed of her performance in front of Benedict when he was teaching her how to fish. She was practically lying on the ground and she had fallen face first into the rapids. Her face grew hot at the thought once more, and she was glad for the dark of night to hide her blush. She grumbled to herself as tiger striped legs carried her towards the lake nearby Abaven’s borders. She wanted to try fishing again, but she didn’t want anyone watching her either.

She was slow to approach the lake, the cattails obscuring most of her view from this angle, but the moon’s light made her pale fur glow. Cautiously the Memoire girl inched forward, careful not to get her mood shadow over the water when she heard him. Autumn froze, bright purple eyes blinking as she tried to see the form of what had disturbed the water. Her heart caught in her throat and she felt a bit of panic. What if those coyotes wanted revenge? Where was the tiger that had intervened?

”Hello?” She croaked, but hoped she got a friendly response in turn. Warriors weren’t supposed to be this afraid of shadows. She tried to get ahold of herself, but remained still with her ears swiveling at every noise in the forest. She looked more like a frightened doe than a warrior in training.