Hoshor Plains Some people feel rain, others just get wet.

A chuff got Steady's attention, and he opened his eyes, turning his head in the direction that the stranger was coming from. The white-silvery male stopped a respectable distance away, and his body language seemed to convey that he meant no harm. Steady's tail wagged back and forth on the ground, though it could only be determined from the grass that it moved. Hello, I'm Steady, from Silvertip Mountain, he offered in a friendly greeting, expecting the other to introduce himself, as well. The wind was dead, and so Steady couldn't determine if the stranger smelled like a pack or not. 

It wasn't often anymore that Steady met new wolves except on the borders of Silvertip. It was almost a new feeling, seeing as how he didn't have to be automatically on guard, if the other wolf wasn't aggressive, anyways. The large, dark wolf didn't really have much to worry about, given that most took one look at him and thought twice about messing with him. Those who chose to take their chances didn't walk away clean after a fight with him, either. However, if given half the chance, Steady would rather help a wolf than harm them.