seamus had chosen his position as the least of his four brothers apurpose. it had seemed already like a hassle to keep the big red oaf of a member in line. he was the smallest, though also the smartest - even if fenrir was near behind him. fenrir’s problem was more matters of the soul and heart than anything else, mind sometimes clouded by what he felt compelled by honor and ritual to do. seamus had no such compulsion. he did not hold apprehension over ritual or rite or nonsense of that nature. he was the silent dagger in the night amongst a throng of people. he was sly and a sneak, shameless about both talents and yet silent regarding them all the same.

he pondered this a moment regarding fritjof, as well. did this other wolf share that same spirit? had he found a likeminded creature of shadow intentions and sleight of hand? was he only growing senile or did he detect a similar obedience for sheer convenience’s sake?

and so he asks him to stay in a silent way, talking of other worlds and this one too, nodding when fritjof sounds less than clear about his feelings towards the old. origins were a tricky thing. some tried to escape, others couldn’t bear to lose the memory, and still others managed other mind-boggling stunts in order to deal with being the new kid on the block and fit in as soon as they could. he and his brothers were a middle ground of the first two.

so, with such limited information given by his secretive proddings - he instead invites the stranger to stay. it is an invitation he cannot imagine not giving - but then it is because the alpha of his now-pack was entirely forgiving of such liberties being taken if one was responsible about it. a right doll, if you asked seamus his opinion. “i would not mind a story, but tell me a bit about your home first..”

ah, good. at least there is more of a chance to get a better measure of this stranger, he thinks. the wear and tear on the other’s energy noted, he took takes a softer seat on the ground, shifting only the barest bit of discomfort from his limbs by leaning his repose more along his side than his belly and twisting his middle so his forehalf was erect despite it. “you are within the taviora pack limits. it is named from a place that did not survive the meteor whose crater you might have passed on your way here. scotavia was it’s predecessor and my brother’s one-time kingdom, now long gone...” he starts, sounding amused by the tale and moving on without hesitation.

“our leader is the second of his line, amoxtli, and his father is called coszcotl. apparently our good leader is off defending our claim against some hooligan or another. nevermind that, i feel as though win or lose we will not wait long for a reclaiming. if not by our present alpha, then by my brother… his children make their home here and he is a mite protective.” he continues on, but he looks now to fritjof. “taviora is here in moladion - in which there are six packs including our fine forest. each, it would seem, has adopted almost it’s own biome. taviora, forests and clearings. spirane, mountains and caves. iromar, swamp and moor. glorall, coastal lands. diveen, plateau and desert. and asteraia - the great and vast grassland”

pink eyes adjust, looking him over a little, the small brown head tilted in curiosity. “the hierarchies have changed recently, but if you give me a sense of what you might seek in a place to rest your head… i would be glad to help.”