Clicking his tongue with a slick smile.
The crows meant something else to the wolf. Tiarnán rarely saw such a large flock of them. To think that they swelled in such a manner because of passing strangers was ridiculous; even the youth could tell there was something grander here. A pack, perhaps. He spent the early evening seeking out tell-tale scents without reprieve. Spring was just coming alive in this area and so it wasn't as dire a time as winter, but the boy still wished to find a place to settle. The great trees of the mountains called to him, urging him closer with their familiarity. He was eager, too eager, and inevitably was drawn away from his quest to find the border's edge when a field of fresh flowers came in to view. Some were mere buds, others a glorious array of tiny petals and bright scents. He happily bound towards them, gleeful and unaware of his trespass.