Hideaway Strath Tell it on the mountain

Her flippant retort was surprising for its sharp tone and childish nature, and he couldn't stop himself from lifting a lip at the sound of it. Tulimaq decided right then that he disliked being called dude. He flicked his tongue across his teeth and lips and let himself relax, hardly bothered in the long run.

Dozens she'd said — then there must have been at least one family living here, maybe more. That would put a strain on resources should he require leaving the mountain; Tulimaq wondered if the pigs of the lowlands would be enough to feed his pack — ah, there it was, that little thought that would nag at him for the next little while. He must have made up his mind about the mountain on some level, but he was still surprised by himself and his own thoughts.

The man snorted softly and regarded her with a shrewd gleam to his eye. She was either a very young wolf or a very unhealthy one, judging by the narrow quality of her body and lean muscle attached to it. They must be well hidden, he explained (not that she'd asked but he didn't care), Where do you call home? He anticipated a facetious response, maybe some outright lies, and prepared himself.

This ambassador role he'd thrown himself in to wasn't working out for him so far, but maybe in time Tulimaq would learn how to be more personable (and stop invading other people's space rather than ask easy questions).