[ male ] [ seven ] [ mateless ] [ imprintless ] [ of iromar ] [ covet x malina ]

Riot had lived alone, outside of Moladion for quite a long time before returning. He had been the one to observe others, learning more and more about anything that he could. He soaked it all up, in hopes that maybe someday it would be of some use to him. A lot of things were, but some of what he had learned only went so far. He knew a little bit about things that healed, but no real understanding of the application of that information. Only the small, simple things had computed for him, just enough not to get an infection on the few hunts that he had gained a cut or so.

Here it was more risky, because he had been hunting different prey with others. One other or a group, and to do that, one had to put a lot of trust into that group or that other wolf. And take on prey that would commonly be obvious couldn't be taken on alone. In doing these things, Riot had suffered more wounding here than anywhere else, and it was a strange thing indeed. He was finally in a pack but it was more dangerous to him to have done so. This changes nothing, for the wounding was no worse than a limp, and he had given his loyalties and that was that.

He had been born within Moladion, though. The past was tricky business when it came to Riot, and he tried not to think too much on it. He knows he can barely stand Diveen, where he was probably born and undoubtedly half-raised, and that had more to do with all the secrets kept from him, the lies about parents that were not really his, and realizing that his own had just.. tossed him away. Or this was what his mind had told him, and he had clung to the idea. What else was there? If they'd been dead there would never have been any lies needed. Secrets meant something bad, usually.

Still, Riot would rise above all of that and become something -- someone -- who mattered. That was his goal. He had no time to be actually distracted until then, but he held friendships, he took his tasks seriously. He dragged his paws on finding the one who had attacked the white wolf that had come to Iromar because the smell seemed too familier to process well. Going down that road meant a life altering change, and he could fell that in his very bones. Riot wasn't sure he was ready for that yet, so he just moves to the shallower scents to track..

Riot knew that he was such a solid, flat black that in the dark even the line of his body were sometimes hard to make out properly. His ears and tip of his tail was a silvery shade, and even his nose was a less defening black than the rest of him. His eyes were a dark gray with golden flecks, those being the only true color on him, as black and gray were made up of shades. Riot had never given a lot of thought to what he looked like in this way, forgetting sometimes that he had a physical form to debate on how others might see it. He had not made the connection of black and silvery, yet.

That was someone else's nightmare, and not his own. His were much different, and it is best to ignore them. But not, however, to ignore the female who had called out a hello to him. Riot glances up from the trail he'd been following, looking at the female openly. "Hello there. Don't mind me, I'm just tracking this smell.." And if she knew anything that alone might get her to talk, and if not.. no harm done. It was no secret that he had been trying to find out more about the wolves that had been attacking others within Moladion. This was his task, and he took it seriously. But for this one part, it was with some hesitation.