[Surik]

The sky was darkening as the young female moved through the woods. Good night moon, goodnight world. Hello, darkness, Surik's old friend. The world plunges into the realm of darkness as the light that has touched the earth for many hours disappears, evaporating into the shadows and giving power to the nightlife.
Cool air starts to shift and take form into strong wisps. Blowing and shifting the branches on the trees. The gods of darkness are awakening, sending their minions out to remind those day dwellers, that night is the time for the cold-hearted. It's not for the weak, and weak is not what Surik is. No, she is a strong young lady. She is a strong girl, not a pushover in the least bit. No, she is a sword in the night. Sharp, and double-edged.

Her footsteps slow to a stop and her orange and blue eyes blink in slight confusion. A bridge stands in Surik's way. As well as a scent of a pack. One that she hadn't planned on running into, but, when opportunities arise. Then one must take them and make the best of any and all situations. After all, Suri had traveled a while. Maybe, just maybe, this is the place where she was meant to stay.

So, standing tall. Tail down, posture relaxed, Suri approached the bridge. Being careful to not pass, she comes to the edge. She was a strong woman, she will not show fear, she will not show weakness. She will be strong, she will belong to this place she had stumbled upon. She will make this her home. She will find her true calling.
Then, she stopped moving. Just at the edge of the bridge. Her two different colored eyes looking around for any sign of life. What should she do? Should she call out to this strange pack? Should she just walk in and try to blend in? Nah, that'd be stupid.

Patience, that's what Suri needs right now. She had just stumbled upon this packland, she couldn't expect anyone to come right away. Who knows how large this land is.


A so, she sat and waited.

The sound of the creaking floorboards of the bridge met Suri's ears. They twitched as they listened, they moaned from old age. Screamed stories of days of old. This place must have a long story to tell. That, or there's a lot of ghosts here.

[Connor]

The sun going down did little to help with Alteron's humidity problem. Even worse the fog had come through thick during the dusk hours, making it near impossible to use eyesight to navigate. Even Connor had begun to stumble over fallen branches and roots he didn't expect to be there. Alteron's scent border was the only thing keeping him on the right track. Soon enough the soft trickling sound of a stream was easier to follow. Soon he would hit the bridge that could lead the Page back to the central packlands. Not even Connor could pace the borders infinitely.

Nosing his way through the underbrush Connor caught a scent he didn't know. Usually it was only the Pages that patrolled the borders, but this wasn't one he knew. Making his way slowly along the creekbed he caught sight of a dark coloured wolf just...sitting.

His ears twitched as he took in the strange female. Sitting at the edge of the territorial border. Strange for a new acceptee. Might it be that she was seeking to enter Alteron? Cocking his head to the side Connor made his way out of the brush, easy to spot for anyone paying attention.

"Hello. My name is Connor. I am a Page of Alteron. May I ask what you're doing here so late?"

[Orcrist]

The night had come, the world darkening around him as he sunk deeper into the territory. He had memorized all of the paths Atlas had cut, and tonight he felt restless. Massive shoulders rolled through plants and twigs, tongue sliding over teeth as hunger set in. He felt the need to explore the night as his den grew colder and colder. No one to entertain or interact with, he was bored and it was dangerous.

Orcrist eventually navigated through and found himself at the edge of the moat, ears flicking to hear the water flowing by. The torches along the few bridges weren't lit, causing the scenery to be all the more dark and menacing. The Chariot huffed a sigh before his attention was caught by near by rustles, creaks and even a voice. Someone was at the border, two people to be exact. He slipped back into the shadows of the undergrowth and circled the two, watching their ever move.

One of the new pages approached the stranger trying to cross the bridge. Orcrist would observe for now, but there was an itching behind his neck and urged him to take action, and soon.

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