Ankyra Sound Sorry About your Luck Kid

"The only thing that I know about them is that they've moved up here from far down south. I've been tracking them for miles up this beach," he informed the other man, glancing around them for anyone who might be listening in on their conversation. The world was full of eavesdroppers and bad company, and Hawkes would prefer to avoid both. Being observant was one of the only things that had kept him alive to this point. He grinned, then, and huffed a short laugh. "With any luck, I'll keep my face, as well. Both with them and with the friend who's looking for them." He'd been gone a while, but he'd wanted to be thorough in his search. To bring back as much news for Eartha as possible. 

It seemed they were alike in that regard, as well. Hawkes preferred strongly not to fight, if at all possible, though even the most meticulous grooming could not hide all of the scars on his body. None so dramatic as to have been life-threatening, but his existence had not been a particularly easy one.

He nodded his head in understanding. "It seems like that's all that's bred, where I'm from. Salty, harsh wolves. More brawn than brains, for sure." A bit of pride welled in his chest when Abaddon seemed just as willing to admire him as he was to admire the white wolf. He didn't mind the shamelessness - after all, the display was solely to draw his attention. 

"I'll have you," he acquiesced, the smile still remaining on his maw that had been there from the beginning of their conversation. "So long as we agree to run, not fight, if things go south." The very last thing he wanted, right before winter, was an injury. He would be willing to bet Abaddon felt the same. 

Plus, he certainly wouldn't mind some more time spent with the guy.