As Crete stood observing her for the few seconds that she did not seem to be aware of him or so Crete thought, a small part of him pondered his known sanity. When she noticed him she would likely want to at least hold a polite conversation -- which was socially expected considering he was kind of staring -- but it was not something they could share mutually. Unless she knew how to speak 'mute'. He was spoiled by the ring of siblings that had grown with him and learned how to decipher his language beyond the basis of body language which each wolf knew. He probably should have turned around and walked away, kept going on his original path - not that he had a given destination in his mind. Yet, Crete did not move, and she looked towards him, letting Crete know that she was now fully aware of him; and it was too late now, Crete deduced as he watched her ghost a few steps towards him.
Sea-green eyes studied her in the closer proximity, taking a subtle liberty that was not his own, nevertheless. Crete was a inborn gentleman but inherently a man at the en of the day and he appreciated beauty like any other. In an innocent sort of way the fawn colored woman - albeit probably a little younger than him - was, indeed, beautiful. Weight shifted into a comfortable stance, shrugging the tension from his shoulders as she introduced herself to him. Idly, Crete was momentary reminded of Blue Willow - though the only similarity remained in the length of their names and little else. A soft, contrite smile played at the edges of Crete's lips. Crete The name echoed soundlessly even in his own mind. This was not an uncommon problem, and at this point Crete had learned to let them call him whatever they wanted. If they had not met any of his siblings before it was, logically understandable, that they could not and likely would not know his name.