Sheepeater Cliff hate or glory

At his words, Tonravik sniffed at him with more intent. She shook her head; she had smelled none like him, aside from he himself. Surely she would look. "Do you run with many?" For she smelled many upon him. That he had a son meant he led, and Tonravik was inclined to believe he led now as she had no reason not to. He had many scents upon him, his tiny (as gestured) son just one of them.

Tonravik was both of those things. Simple, and not one for talking. The lone wolf was just a primal being; but it would culminate into where she would lead, again. Tonravik was patient for this day. It would come.