The rumor-mill regarding the beast that lurked in the depths of Serpent Lake had not reached Alshain's ears. Truthfully, he knew precious little about the Teekon Wilds, save from what little information he gleaned from the scents on the wind and the trunks of the trees. The stony edge of the lake was slick from the ongoing snow showers and freezing temperatures, making his trek around it hazardous for even the most sure-footed of youth, and damn near suicidal for the old man. He kept his head turned slightly to the left, keeping his right eye forward at all times to better gauge the path. 

Alshain limped along. He was following the snowed over tracks of a bear to a kill that the animal had made not a few hours before. His ears twitched as they caught the sound of ravens chortling and fighting over strips of meat. The scent came to him moments later; gory, pungent, and metallic. The haggard wolf hobbled across the stones and descended upon the circle of winged scavengers. They silently made way for him; hopping and bounding aside to make way for the predator. With ropy strings of saliva hanging from his jowls, he descended upon the carcass and tore a strip of flesh from a cracked rib.

Tweed had taken to following the ravens. Where the birds went, he followed. It meant food. At least enough to get him by another hour, day, perhaps even another week. He was little more than skin and bones at this point, but he pressed on. His green eyes were dull with fatigue as he approached the ruckus of crows and the lingering figure that was also there to feast. Tweed knew better than to pick a fight, and so he hung back. Eventually, he thought, the other wolf would have to move on. It was then that he would gorge himself on what little was left of the carcass.

His mouth was dry, his eyes hungry, but he restrained himself. The wolf in front of him was in better health as far as he could tell, and Tweed wouldn't waste his energy on a fight that was already lost.

Alshain was a few large bites in before the sudden nervous chatter of the crows alerted him to the presence of another predator. They shuffled their wings and clicked to one another. He swung his muzzle around so that the side of his nose was nearly brushing his shoulder to better get a look at the other poor beast with his good eye. He cricked his tail up a few notches, instantly suspect of the other one, until he watched the wolf for a few beats more—the wolf was... quiet, patient, and unwilling to be a disturbance. Unusual, but not unheard of. 

He exhaled and crunched down on a bone, the marrow spilling out between the cracks, and he swallowed it down, splinters and all. The old man lifted his head and took two steps back from the carcass: "Come, feast. You must be hungry and I am not so bitter of a man to refuse the company." He rumbled in his characteristically velvet tones.

The other wolf spoke, and Tweed's ears pivoted toward him. He was wary of accepting such a gracious gift from a stranger, especially in the middle of winter, but he couldn't exactly refuse. Tweed was literally starving to death, and food was the only thing that would stave off the inevitable for a little while longer. He hesitated, wondering if he should accept at all. His most basic need of food won out on him, though, and he walked forward, bracing himself for the moment when the old wolf would change his mind.

When Tweed got to the meal, he began to devour it with reckless abandon, gorging himself on what little was there and temporarily forgetting about the old (yet imposing) figure lingering nearby. Provided he wasn't attacked, Tweed would scarf down as much of the meal as his shrunken stomach would allow.

The boy was, understandably, hesitant. He crept forward, and Alshain simply watched as the nervous fellow cast occasional glances his way until he was in reach of the carcass. Hunger won out, of course, and Alshain respectfully looked away towards a small group of crows that had settled in just outside of his striking range. They regarded him with curiously cocked heads, and intelligent, beady little eyes. He pressed his lips together and adjusted his tail so that it curled neatly around his hindquarters, only to return his attention to the boy. 

His ears peaked atop his dusky head and he sniffed, "Haven't met many who dare come out this way." He adds, casting his muzzle out towards the frigid depths of the lake. "But I imagine instability in life or the mind drives many to risk much for little reward." Alshain smiles and bends to chew at the skin near his aching leg.

He choked on a particularly dry piece of meat, coughing up bits of meat. The voice caught his attention, and Tweed's focus turned to the dark wolf. As he spoke, and Tweed listened, pivoting his ears toward the sound. For the most part, Tweed had been oblivious to his surroundings. His focus was on the food that he was being allowed to eat and what little comforts he could find on these cold wintery days.

No answer was really necessary to the statements the old wolf had made, so Tweed only grunted in response, swallowing another mouthful of food. Even if the other wolf had asked a more direct question, Tweed wasn't sure if he would have responded. He hadn't used his voice since he had left his family, nor was he sure what it would sound like.

When Tweed looked up again, the other wolf had vanished. Shrugging, the young male took his leave, hellbent on finding more food.