He did not familiarize himself with those among the caliginous canopies of the woods - at least, not unless from afar, shrouded by a luminescent sky, or vegetation lurking in the shadows. He was, as he knew himself to be, an omnipresence of blackfeather; always there, never quite visible, unless he so desired to be.

This particular individual, he knew little about. There were the scents, of course, whirring within his brain - visions of Moonshadow briefly flickered across his sight, and he had caught this scent lingering around the woodland before. Not plentiful, but discernable enough for him to pick up on, and follow, once a trail had snagged like a hook to his nose. Charcoal lips parted, sucked cool air in through his teeth, and then drifted shut once more, iron-clad paws carrying his weight forward as his lean figure wove betwixt the trees and their stumps.

When she, the girl, was in his line of sight, he made no move to announce his presence - he was feeling decidedly neutral today, and so, should the wind decide to reveal his location, he would take it within his stride, perhaps initiate a conversation, if only to pry upon subjects he would prefer to educate himself on. Namely, unearthing more about Tundra, should this girl happen to know anything... but if not, no matter. He had other methods of discovery.