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Tiberius wandered. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't, what of his past that he could remember. Thoughts started when he was already an adult, before that wasn't there, didn't matter, was lost. Whatever it was though, the essence lying in that blackness of his unconcious was what made him now, the drive for his sadistic terrorizing.

Spring meant he could wander farther. No cold bit at his face, no driving wind forced him into hiding. He was loose on the world again. The wolf of night and day had no goal, and no real place to be. So this was how he ended up zigging and zagging through an unknown territory, lost and yet never really wanting to be found anyway. The world was his home, unless a pack border made itself known. That he would not cross, Tiberius was not stupid. He may have been bulky and stout, but he was only one wolf. Utterly mad, but still just one.

So when he came upon the border to an unknown pack's territory, he compulsively began to pace along the border. Back and forth, he couldn't help it. The invisible barrier seemed to hold his invasive desire in check, keep him from lunging into certain destruction. That was perhaps the one social structure he did adhere to, unless he was pretending to be normal. And that he could do quite convincingly, for a short time. Just long enough to get close to another wolf, allow a false sense of security to fall on his victim. It was the most dangerous part of the night and day wolf.

His mind worked at his dillema. Logic knew that even lingering here was dangerous, it was why he did not stay long at the edge of Phib's lands. Something else told him that here was less dangerous though, and still more reason was his growing desire to be his sadistic self. It had not been let loose since his encounter with the starred wolf, and that had been quite satisfactory.

That was when he saw the glint of gold not far away. Gold did not walk in the spring, only the fall. He let his eyes focus on the shape and take it in as lupine. His ears went forward and the fur on his neck went up as a natural reaction, but he did not growl. In fact he did not move at all otherwise, just stood planted, staring with his cold blue eyes at the oncoming gold.

Tiberius was wary. He did not like to be found, but he also did not feel he had anything to fear. The golden male carried himself so nonaggressively that even the paranoid mad wolf had to admit that lashing out would be senseless. That or he simply was not in the grips of his disorders for the moment, as no buttons had yet been pushed to set him off. He did not, however, return the gesture of friendliness other than lowering his bistled fur. It was obvious he was not the type to be cowed. Even in the face of possible destruction he tended to maintain a classic overconfident, sadistic attitude.

While he did not have anything against the Glen pack, Tiberius was generally out to cause as much suffering as he deemed necessary. He wanted, was driven by some unforseen force to drive himself and all other wolves he could to ruin, just not at the expense of his own life. That was the only fear that quelled him from taking some risks. So while Tiber may not have been malicious against those Helios wanted to destroy, he was easily swayable when prospects of killing were involved, if words were chosen carefully.

The dark and light male took a great pause to study his descoverer. The scar to the eye of the gold wolf was of particular interest to him, if only because he had to wonder at who delivered it, and why. Scarring and wounds held a particular fascination with the sadist wolf, that was what had ultimately gotten him into a scrap with that b*****d Reno not long ago, though the wound just above his own left eye was healing nicely.

At length , after several moments of this keen study, he responded simply, "I am here." This declaration was designed to speak volumes if read properly, saying not only that Tiberius was unafraid of this intruder on his musings, but that he believed that Helios was not a defender of the pack borderlands. If he were such a defender, Tiber believed that he would have gone running back into the heart of the lands to gather a few other wolves and run Night and Day off. After a few more long seconds of silence Tiberius added, "Art thou seeking something?"

The interest on Tiberius' face flared. A vengeful brute, yes, much like himself. This was becoming an intriguing chance encounter indeed. Internally he beat back his demons, they would be of little use to him in a diplomatic sense. Right now he absolutely must appear mostly sane. Still, the utter essence of desire shone through him, as though for a moment the sensations of battle were washing over him, the blood and the heat, the snarls and the blinding ferocity. The whole thing was a dance really, battle. One which the star-faced male had grown rather good at being a part of in accordance with his madness. The golden male had even pointed right to his sadistic pleasure of fierceness and called it out. Helios might have more in common with himself than originally thought, if the savagery of that gold smile said anything. Tiber could almost feel Helios' desire to see the blood of his enemies flying, another thought the star-faced wolf took delight in.

And a warrior, a soldier, that was something Tiberius could provide readily. In a forced motion Night and Day sat back on his haunches, looking thoughtful in a fierce way, lips curled back in almost a silent snarl while he brought his mind back to the situation right at hand. Being invited in! Such an unusual occurance. He must not lose hold of it at any cost. Slowly, in minute increments, his features returned to stoic and cold. Chilling blue eyes already told that he was going to agree, even before his maw opened to speak the words.

"I will aid you, vengeful one. Call for Tiberius when you need him." His lips curled back in a wry grin, almost playfully sadistic in nature, before Tiber caught himself and blanked it from his features. Granted, this whole self-exchange going on within him may have appeared odd, but he did not give off the essence of a loosed killer, thankfully. So the statement had gotten its desired response, a strong willing aide to an unnoble cause. Not that Tiberius would ever care. He had, sofar as he could remember, never been noble. Even his thoughts of the past contained blood and flying fur, and screaming yelps. Sounds, no vision.

"And," he began again, "to whom am I answering?" Normally the bicolored wolf wouldn't have cared who was offering him this chance, but it only seemed appropriate for an exchange of names. As far as Tiberius was concerned, this help was being offered freely, but he would have to know who to ask for if he ever needed a return on the favor.