Totoka River you say if you could fly, you’d never come back down
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Ooc — Van
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As the dark female pushed herself in a well-mannered sit, Haunter paused and regarded her fully now, his unnerving, sun-lit gaze tracing her svelte frame unabashedly. Though not fully facing him, she was angled in a such a way that he could see the recent scar upon her chest, betwixt the throes of her wildly swept fur. He met her pale green gaze briefly, but in an effort not to seem disrespectful, his eyes swiveled away casually before answering her.

"Seeking a place of reprieve for the night... before I make the return trip to my pack," he said, raspy voice surprisingly languid despite years of misuse. He was more intelligent than his still-feral appearance suggested; because indeed he looked no less wild despite being a part of the Creek for something like a month now. "Are you familiar with this area?" he asked after a pregnant pause, not usually one to seek advice, but in this case he figured it might get him what he needed in a more swift fashion.

The dissipating scent of eaten fish made his stomach growl obsessively, but he ignored it, figuring that the woods would provide him with a hare or late forager when he had the chance to hunt.
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