[ GOT A HOLD ON ME — JOINING ]

[WINTERWOLF]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]He has to admit that fleetingly, these two get a smile out of him. It's more of a tired quirk of his mouth, barely there and then gone, but it could be caught by anyone with the attention for subtleties. The first to approach him is tiny — small enough that a flick of the beast's paw could send them flying. Yet they seem pleased to see him and unafraid. It's almost refreshing, after where he's been. The second child (to call him a child seemed unfair, but Winter is older, experienced; Moon's scars mean nothing to him) is another story. He seems wary, and rightfully so. Perhaps it was a good thing that Winterwolf was, well, a wolf before he was a lion. He's kept a dog's habits — his ears perk up and swivel, his tail will at times sway as if it's close to wagging, and he's not entirely opposed to the younger males of his species, as male lions tended to naturally finds themselves at odds. They were civilized creatures now.

(To call him, a killer, civilized is one hell of a joke, but current murder is the point.)

The lion cocks his head, reminiscent of a dog trying to hear better, and answers the question immediately. "You might be in luck, in that case. I am." His voice is rough from disuse, yet he speaks straight and pointed. It's too easy to join these groups. Do they even question them more intensively than this? Is it a matter of trust? As someone who had been trained to kill, perhaps it was his own fault for assuming that everyone else would attempt the same, but he worries about the sake of any group that allows a child to greet a lion. (Worries, bah. He doesn't worry. It's not as simple as that.) "Assuming you want my name, it's Winterwolf. Winter should suffice." Maybe it's a little obvious that he's been through this before.