Blackfoot Forest I have no disguise you can't see through.

Time had tempered Mesa's anger, cooled it, and soon enough the bear-dog was forgotten.

He found a game trail along the edge of the forest. There were low-hanging branches that had been clipped clean of buds, likely by resident deer, and as he followed after one of the more obvious trails through the ferns the man found something else — a marked patch, stained by wolf urine.

Mesa paused over this for a few moments to deliberate. His options were obvious: leave, or stay and hunt; one would guarantee abstinence from social interaction, while staying would more than likely force him in to conflict with whoever lived here.

The bear-dog's puffy face flashed in his mind suddenly and he turned back to the marked patch to double-check the scent, but did not yet make up his mind.

Ethan was roaming the forest when he encountered another wolf. He usually didn't hang around here, so he wasn't sure if the wolf was from a pack, but he took a pace back, before tentatively barking into the space between them to announce his arrival from afar. The small black and white wolf knew that it was the best option for him, as many wolves could take advantage of his size.

He did not see a clear route through the forest, and he did not know the area well enough to find a path in to the mountains, so that meant turning around was his best option. When he began to do that, a scent drew his attention.

It was a decidedly strong wolf-scent; it wasn't like the others he had traced among the ferns, as it was strong and fresh, so Mesa paused to survey the shadows with a glare.

He heard a bark, and turned to glare at the spot where it was loudest. That was when a petite wolf came creeping from the dark, meeting the scrutiny of the hunter. He didn't feel the need to say anything as his body said more than enough: tension coiled in his shoulders, ears forward-facing, wary but not afraid.

Ethan could tell from the wolfs body language not to get too close, but he got a little closer so the two could told.

“Hey…” Ethan called out hesitantly. “Are you going to try to kill me if I get any closer?” He asked, half jokingly.

sorry for the short reply, I’m on mobile rn

There was a flicker of interest from the woman. Mesa read their apprehension as something coy instead, and when she asked after her own safety the hunter thought about it and then rolled one shoulder. You don't look like much of a threat, he admitted.

That said, Mesa had been around long enough to be taken advantage of, and to take advantage of others, so he knew to be cautious around every individual. It was logical behavior. He didn't know where this wolf came from — but she smelled like wilderness, not the typical layering of wolf-scent.

Did you want something? Life was transactional as far as he was concerned. Otherwise, why bother approaching anyone?

"not really anything in paticular, just maybe to not be alone? most wolves I meet either have no interest in hanging around with me, or try to kill me." Ethan told the hunter. "I cant promise you won't feel the same, but I was hoping that perhaps we could just hunt together, or have a conversation? I've been trying to find a pack.. but my luck hasn't been great so I've resorted to hanging with other loners from time to time."

"My names Ethan by the way." He told the hunter.

The man gives a snort.

This one was all words. Usually by now Mesa would have abandoned the conversation; he did not know why he stayed. There was a certain familiarity to the way the other wolf spoke, though. Perhaps that was it.

Disinterest or aggression. It sounded as though this wolf had encountered many desperate others, one by one. Mesa knew how hard life could be alone — he thrived, but that always meant others suffered. It was the law of the universe. He felt no pity for this one, only understanding.

As he turned to leave the wolf gave their name — but all that the white wolf did in response was grunt, and turn an ear to hear for it. He did not offer his own, and would not. All this stranger wanted was company and Mesa wasn't interested.

Ethan's tail drooped. He was no different than the others. At least he didn't try to kill him. 

Ethan knew better than to follow this wolf. He didn't want his throat slit, so with his head low, he stalked off, looking over his shoulder every now and then to see if the wolf had turned back, either to follow him or kill him.