Herbalists' Cache but it seems like a thousand years

Solitude has rubbed him raw. He's uncomfortable by default anyway, and enough bad encounters with the wrong personalities have left him with very little to give back in these days. He is carefully watchful as the large wolf moves in on him, fighting intently against the urge to raise a ridge of nervous hackles. It only manages to manifest as a silvered little ripple of his furs as he lowers his neck a bit more and tucks his tail closer to him. Mostly, he just wants to be able to survive.

The approach speaks of no aggression, so Inari begins a shift towards curiosity now that his worries can rest some -- if only for the moment while he is seemingly investigated. He is stark still and lets this happen, for he feels this is not a current he is wise to fight against.

When he has the chance, he whips his tongue out and licks the underside of the agouti wolf's chin. It's quick, terribly fleeting, but his defensive submission is clear as he points his muzzle away, but eyeballs the stranger with a sideways look while his nostrils flare. Inari does not know these scents he wears and they tickle his nose in a odd way.

He only wants to know why he's been chosen for a greater look like this, or why the male is here. Inari knows he presents just as he is -- a lonesome wandering wolf, vaguely lost, and purposeless. He means no harm to anyone. Why.