Shadewood instinct

Macintosh wasn't a lover of small talk and it seemed that Bowie was no lover of talk at all. Macintosh knew the sort well. Stoic and silent, brooding in a way that was almost melancholy to anyone with an ounce of personality. Why, Bowie might well be his own long lost brother come to find him. The Winters were well known for being stoic, silent, and brooding, warriors all. Droll as doorknobs, Macintosh would've called them, being one of the few Winters who liked to talk and laugh and sing songs and tell stories.

Well, Macintosh had many wolves in his life that Bowie reminded him of, and his desire to mince words with such folk was almost nonexistent. He'd left home to meet wolves with colourful personalities and cultures, damnit, not to see his family reflected in them! "Mayhap you should," Macintosh agreed, then added, "and mayhap I should. In fact, you've inspired me to return home." He thought momentarily about asking Bowie if he would like to join him on the journey, but thought belatedly that the other wolf's comment had likely been ironic, and anyway, his choice of traveling companion would have to be a sort of fellow he could talk with easily.

For better or worse, Bowie was not such a fellow in Macintosh's eyes, so he dipped his head and said, "adieu and good luck," and headed back in the direction he'd came.