Flycatcher Downs Sometimes being too courageous is a problem

When the sound of footfalls first reached his ears, he hadn't paid much mind to it. He knew not of the pack that was located near by—then again, he didn't really know of any packs in general anymore. Even so, he knew he was in an unclaimed territory, so felt it would be irrational for someone to attack him. With his injury, it probably wasn't good to allow his guard down so low, but he couldn't help it. He figured anyone would walk right on by him, probably to get to some place he didn't know about. His assumptions were proved to be incorrect, however, as he noticed the steps were heading towards him, rather than in a direction to avoid him. Curious, he raised his head and looked towards the other, a trace of fascination spreading throughout his features at a leisurely pace. Alastor waited until he heard a chuff sound from the other, wanting to be sure she wasn't a mere illusion. Not that hallucinating had become a regular thing for him, but one's mind could do odd things when left on it's own for too long. The sound was, for the time being, all the confirmation he needed to accept that she was real, which further snagged his interest.

Slowly, the Greek pushed himself up so he was sitting, icy gaze refusing to leave the face of the other. "Hello..." he greeted, voice rougher and quieter than usual from having not been used in awhile. His ears twitched backwards ever so slightly as he heard his own voice, and he took a second to clear his throat as quietly as he could. "You are real, yes?" While he was pretty sure that the woman before him was, very much, a real wolf, he could not be entirely sure. A small voice in the back of his mind urged him to trust her existence, to accept entirely that there was a breathing creature before him, but he was not so sure the voice could be trusted.