Neverwinter Forest -- ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ

Varick can hear them before he sees them emerge from the evergreens.  His predatory gaze lingers on their forms as they come forth, drawing him from his survey of the landscape before him.  It is not long before he is accosted by the two dark femmes — one with a croon that sours his mood and another whose unease was palpable.  Unsure of where to begin being addressed by two at once the prince graces them with his silence instead, making it look natural in the process as he scented them to take in what information he could.

Although the scent of many tangles in and out of the first woman and he is unsure of just how far her pack's borders are from where he stands, he understands this is neutral ground and in turn he positions himself tall on those long legs, his neck craning upwards not in dominance but in an assured and unwavering confidence.

Greetings.  His thunderous voice cuts through the cold air between them, echoing and bouncing off of the rock and trees that surround the trio. Good evening indeed; I come not for any reason other than to wander. To exist.  In all it was the truth — he came with no important mission or purpose but he was here nonetheless.  He looks at each of the strangers as he speaks, making sure to direct himself at both of them even though he has no response to what the first femme spoke of him.