Sytori

And thus did a new female grace the Ivory River with her presence, a rosy pup yipping at her feet. Golden eyes scrutinized her form, though they furrowed with an odd and slight recognition. Her pelt was light and unfamiliar, but seemed to dance with markings and hues of a son recently lost. 

But despite the recognition, a warning curl of Rozarck's lips persisted. For they were short on space, on resources for those already walking amidst the pack. It seemed troublesome to house a stranger and her wiggling pup, particularly with legitimate pack-born souls on the way. Thus, did his mouth curl into a more conclusive snarl, readying himself to chase her onward.

...Until his own daughter stepped forth.

The golden eyes she shared with her father sparked with deeper recognition. But was it a stretch? Was her grief pushing her into grasping for straws? Even still, she could not stop herself from murmuring, "...Who is your sire?"

It was the new female's turn to furrow. She hadn't really known her father much. To her knowledge, he had impregnated her mother and remained within his own rankings, a phantom in her life. But the intensity behind the pairs of yellow eyes drove her to answer, murmuring a name that, unbeknownst to her, would cement her place amongst the Ivory River forever.

"...Maverick."