Northstar Vale i'm the pretty prince of parties

In a surprising turn of events, Warbone gave over the acceptance of the stranger to Tryphon; he hadn't anticipated this, but was quick to adapt. He briefly cricked his tail as a show of confusion, but when he advanced beyond the first and towards Jax, his bushy tail was laying placidly in place above his hocks.

The boy heard the stranger speak, but paid little attention to that. Words mattered little to Tryphon. How someone felt, how they smelled, and their behavioral ticks were each more important. As he slipped closer to Jax, Tryphon studied him. He reached with his snout towards the stranger's own and sniffed, tasting both the air between them and getting a sense of the gray wolf's health; he tasted the hot breath upon his wet nose. Then he moved around the prone form of the wolf and took in the many layers of scent across his body — the scent of alder and ash, a faint deer scent (presumably from when Jax was hiking the trails up to this point), an errant note of pine. He seemed healthy, and well traveled.

Contented by all that he found, Tryphon's next move was to rumble a pleasantly deep note in the depths of his throat. He withdrew from the inspection and glanced carefully to Warbone, at which point he gave a slight tail flick, and side-stepped so that he could bump the stranger with some part of his body — planting his scent and those he carried upon Jax.