Blackfeather Woods evil's soft first touches

The yearling smiles almost wickedly as the call of yet another sounds out steadily, echoing through the dark woods. Drawing himself through the shadows to plant himself before the stranger, desolate optics pierce the coming night as they focus on the man before him. "Speak." He indicates for the other to explain his presence upon his borders, especially since apparently, he had already rubbed his scent all over it. Though Vaati could not image why anyone would want their coat to hold the remnants of decomposed innards. Odd, Vaati remarks within his conscious, noting how utterly feral the other came off, a feeling quite similar to the other one who had arrived at the bloodied line not too long ago. Something about the first one had concerned him. Concerned him in the way that perhaps the first one's blatant disposition for bloodlust would prove untameable. Yet, he waits to make a judgement call about this one, awaiting the tone of how the other spoke, and what words he used to convince Vaati that his input was something they would value.