Razorback Ridge nine names

He waltzed along with her for a while, minding his step as she soothed the hackles upon her nape and instead contemplated his words. They were always awkward; introductions and greetings. Particularly when traveling. He often found himself lost within his own headspace to the point where the presence of another was a particularly jarring experience. As if to rip him out of his own thought was a terrible and cruel possibility, albeit a necessary crime. She quick to let him settle along side of her as he mirrored her pace, but her words were thoughtful. 

She knew the skies. That much was evident in her quick assessment. There was something about her words that suggested she'd been watching them for a while and keeping tabs on their progress as she'd pursued whatever destination she was seeking. A quick glance skyward and he confirmed what she spoke of to be true. The storm would come, but it was far off yet. There was time to spare.

"I'm more concerned about mudslides," he admitted, "Particularly in these parts. This ridge is far too steep to risk mud." Finding footing as the ground currently was, was difficult enough. He wasn't going to risk it if the rain did chose to fall sooner than he expected. It was for that reason, in addition to happening upon this female, that he'd turned back, abandoning his efforts to slip into the mountain vale only to double back and resume his stalking of the plains wolf borders.

He'd get there. Eventually. For now, he was content to let his lips fall into a grin as she spoke of humidity. "It always does seem to spike before a rain, doesn't it?" he agreed with her, not caring for the dampness upon the air as it often messed with his nose. All the same, he was up to something, just as he suspected she too might have had reason for venturing these precarious slopes.

"New pack in the flatlands," he admitted. "I was stalking their perimeter before I decided to deviate and try the mountains. Weather cancelled those plans." He shrugged. "Yourself?"