Machiavelli's tongue lolled lazily from his parted jaws as he trotted through the vast expanse of desert. His ears tipped back, finally catching scent of a group of animals nearby. If he squinted hard enough, he could see the Egyptian town on the distance. It had been a long time since he had contact with another group. Having been forced out of his own pack when his father was killed by a rival male, Machiavelli resorted to life as a loner. It had taken a toll on him. He was skinny and rather small, his coat wasn't as glossy and smooth as it used to be, but his fierce yellow eyes were still sharp with life.

Why not give it a try? The Italian wolf thought to himself as he realized he was at the edge of the border. He knew some groups could be hostile to a newcomer, but he'd take his chances. Machiavelli wasn't much of a fighter, he was more streetsmart and ratty than anything. "Hello? My name is Machiavelli." The young male called out, waiting for an answer.

This was taking a long time. Maybe he should turn back and find another group. Maybe this one was deserted. He practically jumped out of his own skin as the sand shifted to reveal a snake-like creature. "Merda!" He cursed, fur standing on end and prepared to get himself the hell out of there before anything bad happened.

He only paused because when the creature spoke, he seemed welcoming. Machiavelli was only accustomed to wolves and dogs, and the occasional cat he saw while roaming cities. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Joining." So this place was called Rosebloods ... it sounded nice at least. However, he couldn't believe he would be accepted just like that. There had always been some sort of initiation in the wolf packs Machiavelli was used to. "What do I have to do?"

Machiavelli was obviously transfixed at the other wolf who joined Bai Shi. His tail wagged slightly in greeting, appearing much happier to see one of his own species. "Hi." He did a careful little bow in front of Fleetfoot. He stood up straighter and nodded at the dragon's words. The liquid didn't seem too bad, and he sort of liked the idea of the flowers, quite unique. Machiavelli recalled how his wolf pack had family symbols they scratched into rock and wood of their territory. Though, with the usurpation of his father ... those symbols might be forced to change. "Alright thanks." He said smoothly, only to be startled again by another dragon like creature. "And what are your names?" He asked the two females who had came over.