Seven - Mistletoe's Beloved - Glorall

In their past experience in Taviora he had learned a few things about visiting packlands. Mainly that it was no appropriate to show any sign of aggression at the alpha or pack members upon initial meeting. Of course they had visited right after his beginning time with Mistletoe and already being a creature of passionate feelings had felt nothing but a fierce sense of possession over his imprint and did not want another male spying her. But now that she had agreed to be his mate and time had passed those feelings had eased. He was still wary of others around her slim figure and hadn't had the chance since Coza to be party to meetings but he planned to make a good (non-aggressive) entrance to Glorall. After all they had pups on the way and he needed to find them a good home. Maybe it wasn't safe around the crashing waves for pups but it was a helluva a lot safer if it separated them from the crazies out there.

A howl cut short his playtime and Warlow slowed, his massive body pressing against Mistletoe's reassuringly before he stepped away. He did not want to smother her as he had last time - not that she had ever said she disliked it or showed any inclination. Sometimes he got things into his head that were hard to get out. Yellow-brown eyes turn towards the white figure as he lopes towards them and Warlow is still as he waits. It is in his instincts to want to crowd Mistletoe and show this male that this wolfess was his; it took quite a bit of strength to maintain his distance from her.

Tesseract made it easy. He didn't stare openly too long at either of them and it eased some of the tension that had wound its way up Warlow's neck. He dipped his maw at the male, the scent of the sea strong upon his pelt, and assumed the figure was the leader over this pack. Warlow is almost startled at Mistletoe's response to Tesseract and looks at her in surprise which is soon followed by a naughty grin - his darling as some spunk to her that is for sure.

"That is what we've come to see; a good strong home that I can be assured our children will not suffer within." His voice is hoarse and gruff as always but his words are not unkind. They are downright pleasant! It seems as if Mistletoe and Warlow have rubbed off on one another.