Nova Peak the bloodied hatchet

For a time, the two canines, one hulking beast and one small-to-medium Arctic wolf, stood staring at one another. In the same manner that Sangilak's ear twisted back, both of Prophet's sought the air behind him, but he wasn't too worried about being surprised by anyone else. He would be able to smell them long before he could either hear or see them, and seeing them wasn't terribly hard from this height either. She licked her hefty chops and the black-phase man mimicked, sliding his tongue along his thinner set of jowls, but eventually the staring contest got old and he rolled his shoulders.

"So," said Prophet across the distance, ever one for skipping small talk, "is staring at each other awkwardly what the cool wolves do nowadays?" Ordinarily he would approach to sniff out her age, mood, origin, basically her entire story, but he held his ground instead truly because he was afraid to get any closer than he was. There was no telling whether she really was half-bear like he suspected. He speculated briefly but the entire idea of a bear and a wolf breeding was a disgusting one that he quickly dismissed from his mind. Regardless if she was some hybrid or not, the last thing he needed was to be slapped off the ridge by a bear, let alone a wolf masquerading as one.