It is mid summer, and it is sweltering hot. While some wolves were built for such climates- Rio was not. His pelt is thick and luxurious, best suited for the bone numbing cold of the North. Eis, where he was born, is far from this land after all, and snow and wind are his allies. But this heat- this sticky, suffocating heat is something he is most unused to. Which was why, as of late, he had kept to most places with water. It was why Glorall had suited him best, for a time, before the new Alpha had moved in and he had taken his leave. Perhaps, for the time being, he was simply not cut out for pack life. That, or he just didn't feel like adjusting- yet again- to a new leader. Call him picky, call him old fashioned. Such was simply his way.
The sounds of others- laughing and talking, reach his auditory senses. He was downwind of them, but that did not stop him from turning his large russet frame and making his way forward. He was already in the shallows of the water, his massive paws thoroughly soaked, though of course he did not mind. It felt good to cool down, and he had it in mind to simply submerge his entire frame- but he refrained, if not for the time being. When the others finally came into view, his bright, citrine gaze roamed to each in turn. First is a wolf who she herself looks to be completely wet, and then another younger female who looks almost skittish. She eyes the water with a weary expression, as if she doesn't know what may lurk beneath. It has a smile slowly caressing the red-heads handsome muzzle.
The next is an almost all white female with a dark mask across her eyes that catches Rio's attention. She's beautiful and he has it in mind to approach her, simply to learn her name and where she comes from. Something of her seems oddly familiar, but what it is, exactly, he cannot guess. And the last is a male, most similar to the prior female as he is mostly all white, but his expression is one the red wolf does not trust. It is a mask, something a jester would use and has a brow arching upon his handsome face. Such strange beings, wolves could turn out to be. When he is close enough, he speaks, his baritone voice rather smooth and flowing. 'Greetings, strangers.What brings you all here today?' After speaking, his gaze is then following each wolf in turn, his expression one of warmth and welcome. It was his nature, after all- and how could he be anything but
male-eleven-no love & soul-loner