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*snuggles*

Whittier failed to notice as he was approached by the other wolf. His mind had begun to wander amongst the possibilities for where his life was to go next. Allure was still out there somewhere, alone, with no one to look after her (or so he had always assumed). He needed to find her, but he'd been searching for so long now and had come up with nothing. He was determined not to give up on his search, but the outlook was suddenly seeming quite bleak. It was a miracle he'd even made it this far. How much farther could he go now that the odds had suddenly stacked so very, very high against him?

It was her voice that shocked him out of his inner monologue. He started visibly and faced her with fur standing on end, tail high and ears perked. She was like an otherworldly skeleton and for an instant, the imaginative yearling was absolutely convinced that he smelled gravedust and afterlife upon her. But then, he realized he had no idea what those scents even smelled like. His shock ebbed, and with it went the ethereal dark glow around her, and soon enough she was just another wolf like him. Only she was standing dominantly. And so was he. Oh, of all the fucks.

Whittier fell into submissive overdrive after a few short seconds - ears planting upon the back of his skull, body flopping towards the ground and tail tucking. He averted his gaze from her sharp face to her skinny legs. The movements happened in unison with his barking a "Crap! Sorry!" at her, which he realized quickly was not a great thing to say. Wincing visibly, he tried to rectify things. "Sorry, I just. Sorry." Maybe rectify isn't the right word. We'll never know.

The Frostfur felt absolutely certain that he was about to get another walloping like the one he'd suffered during the swarm. He cringed, not looking forward to this at all. "I didn't mean to come here," Whit explained quickly, hoping it would delay the approaching ass beating, "I just. I didn't know where I was going and I." He what? Came to sing Christmas carols? "I'm like. Super hungry." Because that's relevant. "And my mind just. It's not. I'm sorry. I..." Good. The insanity plea. "Please don't." A pause, and then came an abruptly different tone than the panicked prattling he'd begun with, taking on curiosity and surprise just in time for the finale: "Jorunn?"