Deepwood Weald Against you, a weak defense

It's a standoff for the ages. In one corner, a lean man verging on sexual maturity, if scent can be trusted, with a rich, dark coat. His eyes, pumpkin orange, show naught but determination and confidence, and his body, though thin, is solid. In the other corner, a windswept drifter, blue eyes hard with mistrust and body rigid with uncertainty. For a long moment neither wolf moves, each of them overwhelmed by the instinct to run or fight. There's nothing to fight over, though, so Farstep shows no signs of aggression.

Then Mees lifts his tail slightly. The loner, interested only in establishing himself as formidable in order to ward off any sign of attack or attempted dominance, responds in kind with the cupping of his ears and a stiff wave of his tail as it rises to a similar level. His teeth remain hidden behind his lips, but they tighten into a purse meant only to suggest that an attack is a bad idea. Mees' vocalizations say much the same. Both males attempt to convey not harmlessness, but strength. Not to pick a fight, but to prevent the other from getting the idea.

His coat is smooth, though his skin crawls with the urge to raise his hackles. To do so would almost certainly come across as aggression, though, and Farstep wordlessly hopes to convey that he is not to be messed with but has no interest in messing with Mees, either. It's truly born of fear, this posturing; a bluff to keep the other from harming him, but nothing more. He issues a deep noise from his throat, halfway between a bark and a growl, that seems to say, "move along and I will too". Perhaps they will end up in another kind of interaction, though, the rigid greeting of loners. Mees' actions will tell, but Farstep takes a cautious step toward the other male, gauging his reaction.