Tyrion didn't know what to expect out of Iromar, but he had survived the venture. The dwarf sighed and made his way eastward towards the plains. Perhaps this one would go differently, or it would be much the same. There was no telling for sure without looking for oneself. The golden blonde male padded along, his stubby legs moving at an easy pace. He had decided he wouldn't immediately go to the pack border. This time, he would observe quietly from afar. That seemed like a better option.

The old man hummed quietly to himself as he traveled. A random tune from his homeland. "A lion still has claws..." he murmured the words to the tune before reverting back to humming. The weather wasn't the most pleasant. The temperatures seemed to rise as he had drifted towards the Ruieze Fields. Apparently, summer was not being kind here. Tyrion followed the plains easily.

His paws took him towards the narrowing of the fields towards the break between Diveen's northern border and Asteraia's southern border. "And not a soul to hear..." he whispered as his little tune ended. His mis-matched gaze drifted about towards the south and then towards the north. He was in 'no man's land' between the two packs, where none of it belonged to either of them. A safe enough place as he moved towards the plains. He was quiet here, watchful and curious of who might be coming or going.