Deepwood Weald a whispered portent

Her response seemed promising in the wrong places, leading him to wonder if he had stumbled across the wrong wolf altogether. Not that he expected the weald to be teeming with activity; his last venture here had been pockmarked with the abrupt arrival and departure of another before relative solitude overtook him. He wouldn't get that solitude now of course, not with Hydra in tow, but outside of her company he decided he was not entirely keen on collecting more for any long duration.

"You seem like you're managing," he rejoined. This one was just as wild as he would be in a matter of days, free to roam and take advantage of the budding spring that was coming. That alone was enough to make him rethink his prior thought—perhaps the weald would be teeming with activity. The birds had come to roost, after all.