Thunder Dome Here our dreams aren't made, they're won

He couldn't read much into others' overarching intentions. Their body language was like a book with which he was intimately familiar, a book whose spine had long since deteriorated from use, whose pages were littered with inky fingerprints and whose cover was faded and worn. It was the manual by which he lived and breathed. It was his sole form of communication, but it had its limitations. Farstep could only tell what a wolf wanted in the moment. Their intents were only laid before him in brief intervals. He could tell that Asterr had no intention of harming him right now, but he couldn't tell what she was doing here, why she remained in his presence, or what he could possibly offer her by remaining himself.

The spoken word was most certainly more convenient, but one thing the body could not do was lie. A wolf who was hard-wired for dominance could not submit to one he believed to be less respectful and less significant than himself, minus the aid of a pack in determining the hierarchy between them, without it being an obnoxious form of submission. The true belief that he is greater would always shine through to one on the receiving end of such obnoxious submission. In that manner, the body could not lie. Farstep could not tell lies and neither could he receive them.

So there were no lies between him and Asterr, but their conversation occurred in second-long blips rather than sweeping sentences and eloquence. He followed her gaze over his shoulder to the peak, and a second glance at the clouds above only made his hackles prickle visibly. His tail faltered its relaxed waving as the tension of the broiling storm gripped him momentarily. His jaws parted to release his tongue and a bated breath, suggesting that it was fear that kept him from going higher. His curiosity was outweighed by it. Braver wolves might attempt the peak, but Farstep would never go beyond this point.

Speaking of braver wolves, as he swung his head back around to Asterr, he caught sight of a dark form heading down the mountain, presumably spooked by the storm as well, and felt a stronger pull to put more distance between the raging sky and himself. For the moment, he remained rooted and peered curiously at Asterr, but knew he would soon head for safer ground below, following in Saghani's footsteps.