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He eased her fear of intrusion, drawing Diane nearer with his accommodating mood. The hour, it seemed, was irrelevant but he had reason to have descended the slopes, and the lonely Cove wolf found herself admiring his dedication. And again, she pointedly ignored how much he reminded her of the values she had experienced at her birthplace.

She followed the motion of his muzzle, stepping around the nearest tree and scenting the buck that had sharpened his antlers and defecated here, hours past. There were other trails in the immediate area too, a small herd, Diane guessed. 

"A neighboring pack sounds stressful.. Even with a solution for food," the girl mused, gold eyes glittering in the dark. She wondered why he had allowed the near border-sharers to settle there, but she was semi-aware that Tagg had a pacifist mentality. A sort of "live and let live" philosophy. She had a hard time seeing him as violent unless it was necessary. 

"You're worried then," she observed, feeling a need to smile for him, but still unable to emote even as she felt the urge. "Is it about the choice you've made to avoid battle? Because I think you're doing the right thing," she clarified after a moment. She didn't seem the sort to have a mean bone in her body. "Unless our neighbor is troublesome, I suppose."

Diane was largely a naive sort, or perhaps sheltered is a more apt term. Intuition had kept her alive where shelter had failed.