It is the scent of another lingering upon the border, close to his own sleeping den, that sees the glorious golden male rise to his paws, the short, yet heavily muscled creature strolling from within his den to stand upon the rocky precipice that provided the Spirane Hand with a view of much the entire pack. His den location had been chosen specifically for the very view it offered, the prodigy having selected this site for the exemplary level of visual observations to which it facilitated, the wind lifting higher here, by his own calculations and thus allowing him to sample the intermingle of scents and breeze as it passes the forefront of his muzzle of copper and gold. Those strange dark eyes, so black, so very soulless in their appearance turn to rest upon the waiting creature, a male, he is sure, Pan waiting a few moments to assure himself the visitor conducted himself in an appropriate manner- waiting patiently rather then strolling in with the sort of arrogant manner that was assured to result in little more then a release of the packs warriors. When the dark wolf proceeds to wait- Pan is content to deem him worthy of conversation, the heavy little wolf stepped from his makeshift throne to lope down the hill and towards this apparent guest. The Alphess, for this moment, was occupied and as the next most senior wolf he is assured of his own right to greet such a creature strolling down and onto the sparsely grassed flats that decorated the mountain.

Had he known of the other males thoughts, of his wonderings upon the culture of wolves then perhaps he would have been content to send the boy to Diveen, perhaps the most cultured of all packs with their beliefs upon Angels and their own superior blood, a ruling line unbroken in so many years, perhaps too he would have even warned him from approaching the wolves of the swamp, Iromar surely unwilling to tolerate wolf marked as that and indeed upon such thoughts he may well have come to the conclusion that Spirane was perhaps a pleasant middle ground for the tan and black creature. As it was however, the glorious golden male merely remained silent upon such things, paws coming a halt before the other, head and tail lifted high in his right to dominance amongst such a pack. He is, after all, advisor to the Queen herself, above all others save for She and his equal in Tailsin and yet perhaps had he been asked the intelligent male may well have voiced exactly why he believes himself superior to the other muddy coloured boy whom shared his equality. He hardly means to appear to….arrogant, the manner in which he talks and speaks simply often misguided as such, the male truly only desiring to help those around him and yet many find Pan abrasive, cocky, egotistical if only for the fact he is bluntly honest in his words, his mind so very superior to so many around him, forever craving thought and knowledge, forever finding brilliance in this world.

“I find the manner in which you so rightly conducted yourself to be a mark of suggested good character and yet in an order to prove the hypothesis to which I have produced within my own mind I am required to further assess you threw conversation. Thusly I will ask you to state your business in a manner clear and concise so that you may be further evaluated. I am Pan, Hand of the Queen of the Mountain.”

It is a sudden rush of words, the type of which has caught many a wolf off-guard, far more then one often left staring blankly at the academic creature before them, one whom has advanced beyond the norm for canine intelligence, strange black eyes resting now upon the other, awaiting some form of response for the visitor this day.