Frostfire Ridge drowning in the crowd

Warbone was not trying to sneak, crushing littered earth beneath churlish paws, and he was unaware of the other wolf himself, but he had come into earshot at the exact moment he could finally scent another in the vicinity. The stranger stood upwind of him, and he lifted his muzzle curiously as he went, coming upon the defensively bristling wolf almost blindly. Warbone blinked, forepaw raised mid-step as he gazed towards the onyx male with eyes like a foraging fire. His ears pressed forward, and he remained still about ten feet away, wondering if he was dealing with a mere startled wolf or a truly violent one. He feared neither, but the traveling member of Sleeping Dragon was not explicitly looking for a fight.