The mire stretched on and on, leaving little room for the imagination to fabricate what could be beyond such a dismal place. Still, the thief did not wonder how he would escape the drab terrain. His stilt limbs carried him through the wastes quickly enough that Tadec remained unperturbed by his surroundings. It was quiet in the mire, and it seemed a perfect place to steer clear from the wolf-kind. Even the murky land had provided a catch of muddied fish for the coywolf. It was clutched in his slender muzzle, still drizzling into the muddied earth. The prowler had intended to feast on it once he had arrived on the other side of the terrain. Overhead, a thick-winged crow bobbed its head and watched Tadec trek through its domain. The moonlighter paid it no mind. He was unaware that he traipsed through the mire with the company of a large stranger.
A chuff sounded, culling his notice. Lengthy ears swiveled atop his crown, and the coywolf turned his muzzle sharply in the direction of the call. All at once, his burnished gaze settled on a large figure. His stature was proud, broad-shouldered and wild. Abruptly, the moonlighter bristled and swung his ears to flatten against the top of his skull. A glimmer of light betrays the other male and his colors are made clearer to the spindly-legged Tadec. Remarkably enough this stranger in the murk was not full-blooded, but he was still wolf – like Tadec – a mongrel in his own right. Intrigued, the male tip-toed forward on broomstick limbs and latched the bronze of his gaze to the stranger's face.
Lifting his muzzle upward, the coywolf studied the stranger with a sharp glint in his gaze. The male was strong and handsome, in his own right. Were it not for the wolf that muddied his physique, Tadec would have found him luring and appealing. Still, he could not bring himself to hold attraction with one so close to Tiel'c. The tongue of the wolf lingered in the back of his mind. He was not entirely proficient in their language, but he was capable of scraping through.
“Hel...lo,” he greeted in a quiet tone. The timbre was surprising in comparison to his size and shape. Still, the fur along his neck and spine stood rigidly, spiking like wild flames against the darkness of his base coat. Tadec did not flee; he regarded the other male carefully, but he did not flee.
The coywolf's heralding was returned by the impressive brute. With a slight curl to his leathery lip, he peered only a little closer at his present company, drawing in the scent of the beast. Still a wolf, he had to remind himself. Yet, Tadec was a wolf too – at least, he was at that time. It did not call for an appreciation for their kind, but the spindly thief remained purely for the fact that he was speaking to another half-breed. This wolf's blood was as muddy as his own and it was enticing to remain near one so common to himself. The coywolf wondered if this beast was as ashamed of his wolf blood.
A noise chirped in the back of the other male's throat before he drawled a compliment. This took the lithesome creature by surprise. The length of his ears erected atop his skull and he latched his vision to the mutt with a slight gape to his jaw. The tip of his tail twittered and then rested at his hocks. “I... mmm,” he attempted a response and found himself stumbling over the formation. Shaking his head softly, Tadec pointed a thin muzzle to the larger creature and sighed deeply.
“Tadec. I am called Tadec.”