She'd run her stag back home after her encounter with the bird, feeling rather bad after chasing it all the way. It was less fun than it had been chasing it out, but it felt like a load taken off her conscience to know she hadn't displaced the animal so completely. It did look rather rough, now, however, and when the gasping animal staggered away from her again, this time she let it. She was rather close to Easthollow, after all, and she was sure it would find it's way back. Abandoning the chase, she picked her way through the snow towards a boulder, intent on picking away the snow between her paw pads.
Phocion didn't stray too far from the border, these days. He liked to occupy himself right on the line, where he could keep watch for intruders and explore the fringes of the territory. Maybe pick off small game here and there. Perhaps waiting for Indra or Poet to appear, two wolves he had taken a liking to.
His peace today was interrupted by the sound of pawsteps nearby, and his white ears pricked, searching for the culprit. Slowly, quietly, he padded closer, and found. . .wait, what?
She was a wolf, but she wasn't. She was small and brown and white, with a silky pelt and expressive chestnut eyes. More importantly, she had the scent of Easthollow on her, and while she was a little too close to the boundary for comfort, he knew she likely meant no harm, as Valette and Xan enjoyed a steady peace in these lands.
"Excuse me," Phocion called out, his tone perplexed. "Are you lost? Can I help you with something?" She looked relatively young, and naive on top of that.
She blinked as a male came into sight, pale and burly and smelling of the borders near here. She fell motionless, blinking at him a moment before her attention shifted to the girl behind him, the one who didn't quite look like other wolves, but not quite the dogs at home, either. Gaze on the girl a beat longer, she was distracted only when the male spoke. "no, I - I was putting my deer back." She explained, amending a moment later, "I think it got into your territory, though." She explained, gesturing in it's general direction. She was silent only a moment before remedying this statement too, fearing the male would think she wanted it back. "that's alright, though." She'd gotten close enough, certainly, and she shifted nervously a moment before adding finally, "I'm Poppy."
Movement to his side caught the corner of his eye, and his icy gaze flashed that way, landing on the figure of a lithe brown. . .she-wolf? Phocion cocked his head, perplexed. She didn't look like a wolf, either! Part coyote? No, he surmised, no coyote in her, either.
He was still staring bewildered at the newcomer--who held his pack scent--when the other girl spoke. Phocion looked back at her, his face warming a bit but otherwise remaining particularly confused.
"Putting your. . .deer back?" He resisted the urge to scratch his ears, checking for wax. Had he heard her correctly? Was she hunting the deer, or playing with it? The latter could be dangerous; Bearclaw wolves might take it down without a second thought--he knew he would.
Shaking off this thought both mentally and physically, with a wag of his tail, Phocion nodded. "Poppy. From Easthollow? I'm Phocion, of Bearclaw Valley. And this is. . ." He trailed off, looking slowly round at the other female again. One ear rotated idly in her direction, waiting with no small anticipation for her response.