Sun Mote Copse You can stand me up at the gates of hell

Movement caught his eye, every sense on high alert as Peregrine sought any sign of life in this unfamiliar wasteland. He turned to face it, jade eyes squinting as he noted the distinctly canine figure ahead of him. He swallowed, slowing his steps, not particularly wanting to make small talk with the locals (the inedible ones, anyway). He was here for a very specific purpose and socializing didn't really fit into his itinerary. Although, he could touch base with a resident, ask about the state of affairs...

With that thought in mind, the black wolf returned the quiet woof and came to stand with a dozen yards of the stranger. He was tall but lean, a very coyote-like sharpness to his features. But he was undeniably a wolf, a fact which Peregrine observed with a sense of disappointment. If he had been a coyote, he would have done to him what he'd done to that coyote pup a few days ago...

Instead, Peregrine queried gruffly, "You from around here?"