What in hell was that thing?
Pale eyes crinkled as he tried to better make out the scarred form. He could not make out every knick and detail but it was obvious that someone (or someones) had got a good hold on them. He did not envy the bleached stranger.
Stupidly and curiously, he moved closer to the figure in the field. Although he was not totally stupid in his brazen approach to the stranger. He halted a few yards away to keep a respectable distance between them and silently kept looking at their figure. It was almost hard to figure out where on them he should stare but he settled for the face. Kalganov would not miss anything there for it was just as tattered as the rest.
Hello.
He breathed softly as the faintest twinkle of admiration danced in his eyes. He did not envy the male for his ripped looks but oh gods did he envy him for the stories he must have to tell and the experience he must have harbored from gaining so many marks.
He watched the silent display, his own head tilting the opposite way as the male exposed his neck. Pale green eyes glanced over the scar. It explained plenty to him. Truthfully, Kalganov was impressed he still lived after such a brutal mark. He supposed living with no voice was better than being dead. Or was it? Well he might have asked had he been able to receive an answer.
The male looked back over his shoulders, eyes squinting as he examined the lands behind them. There's nothing good over there. At least not in my opinion, why I headed over here.
He casually commented with a soft shrug of his shoulders. Kalganov could not comment much on the lands that laid behind them. Good thing he wasn't being asked a million and one questions.
His nose twitched as he tried to pick up the scent on the male and the one that he had spotted on the breeze from the east. You from there?
He asked as he gently shoved his muzzle in the direction of the lands behind the scarred male. Maybe if he stuck with questions that could be answered with a head shake they could continue to converse.
Kalganov was intrigued by them after all.
The head nod was enough of an answer. Which was well mentioning it was all he was going to get, after all. Kalganov let his eyes linger on the woods beyond the stranger. It was an interesting place. Where he once had wanted to avoid it, he felt drawn to it. A need to investigate it nipped at him hungrily.
They didn't do all that to you, did they?
He asked with an arched brow. Would Kalganov need to expect an ambush on himself or had all those scars appeared before the woods? While the question might have been posed in a way that suggested he was interested in the mute, he was calculating how much he would need to protect himself if he stopped by.
He wasn't the best at reading lips but he was pleased that it was not a complex sentence to understand. Bear. Internally he winced at such an idea. The male was undoubtedly brave in Kalganov's mind for living through such an incident. A soft frown tugged at his features but was quickly swept away by his typical neutral look.
Is it rude of me to ask if there's room for more members?
A brow softly raised. He had nowhere to go and any pack that harbored such...hearty wolves had his full interest. Not to mention bear fighters sounded up his alleyway. Granted he could only silently hope that was a rare thing for he was not done with his youthful looks just yet.
omg thank you for the kudos!!
Of all the things Mou had ever hoped to be — healthy, alive — the concept of earning a trade evaded him. Yet here he was, potentially recruiting a wolf to the family. It struck him as something wholly alien but not unwelcome; the stranger's question brought an expression of surprise to Mou's features, an alertness, and he gave a noncomittal shrug because he honestly had no idea.
He glanced over his shoulder, that big bird-shaped scar straining a little with the effort as he looked at the distant forest. This stranger was healthy and strong, and he didn't seem to be aggressive, so bringing him to the forest wouldn't pose much risk. They had tricks up their sleeves to make up for any shenanigans if Mou judged this guy wrong — and then he realized, he was including himself in that thought.
They. Blackfeather — we.
Mou motioned for the stranger to move closer, but was stepping away — he was trying to say, come with me. Perhaps he should not be the judge of this man but he could lead him to the woods and let his family figure out if he was worthy.