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He watched the goats, their heads bowed as they grazed on herbs, mosses and lichens. On occasion they would lift their heads to glance around, but their ease could be seen even from where the black wolf rested, in the idle twitch of their tails and their quickness to return to feeding. Even a small gopher popped out from its burrow to nibble on grass.

The black wolf drawed his paw back, and felt a curled edge of worn nail catch. He turned his attention to the peeling nail, using his incisors to nip at the offending roughness. From his perch, he readily catches the sight of another wolf, and his broad head swings toward him, his ears flicking forward. His fur begins to bristle with possessiveness over this land, but as quickly as the hairs begin their ascent along his nape and spine, he checks himself and flattens them. This is not yet his domain. Territoriality shifts into curiosity; perhaps this wolf might join him.

He rises, and his keen gray eyes catch yet more movement, this time the form familiar and completely welcomed. He favors Capriccio with a wagging of his tail and a smile, and he sees that she too has noticed the other wolf. He lightly shakes his head no to her unspoken question, then he leaps down from the rock ledge, gliding toward the other male, confident but neutral. His tail waved slowly in greeting and he stopped several respectable wolf-lengths from the tan and gray wolf.

"Like this place?" He inquired.