Lion Head Mesa you got a fast car, is it fast enough so we can fly away?

He heard the quiet, stilted call from behind him. Mason turned with a sudden jerk, almost tripping himself over. No, he'd never be a hunter like Alastor, not as clumsy as he was. But oh well, he could do other things instead.

Mason's thoughts dimmed when he spotted the creature that had made the noise - a thickset, burly shadow of a wolf. He reminded Mason of Steady, but the scent that the boy caught was certainly not one of Silvertip. Eager to appease, Mason's tail scooted low and he averted his eyes. He had no interest in being taken down by a territorial wolf (even if he wasn't on the territory) and he knew he was alone.

"Hello" Mason continued, unsure whether the stranger wanted something. He was mistaking the lack of socialism for confusion. "I was just thinkin' of climbing that mountain, a'cause I live on one, see?" Mason gave a bright smile and carefully looked into the large face of the other man. "You're huge." He breathed quietly, no longer able to keep the elephant in the room out of the topic, but hoping fervently the stranger wasn't offended. Mason was not tall, but he was quite a long wolf, kinda like the sausage dog of the wolf world.